


Love Me For Eternity

by ladyoakenshields



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - How to Train Your Dragon Fusion, Dragons, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, and then more fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-15 19:58:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 212,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2241546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoakenshields/pseuds/ladyoakenshields
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragons had always been a problem for those who lived in Middle-Earth. No matter where you lived or who you were, you most likely had a dragon story or two to tell.</p><p>Bilbo Baggins had more than enough for his lifetime, thank you very much.</p><p>He'd lost his father to dragons while adventuring outside the Shire and later became a parent to his orphaned nephew after a dragon attack. With the sudden appearance of dragons just north of the Shire, dwarves have been called to help protect them. One dwarf in particular takes an interest in Bilbo and young Frodo - and maybe now Bilbo has at least one thing to thank the dragons for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Never Travel East

They had a saying in the Shire: Never travel east. That’s where the dangerous dragons lived.

In some places, like the Shire, they were harmless pests. The most harm they caused were getting in your garden or scaring livestock. The worst you could get was a minor burn, but nothing fatal.

In the east, they were extremely deadly threats. These dragons killed and destroyed. People were equipped to deal with the dangers of dragons, or so the stories went. There had been tale of hordes of Whispering Deaths that lived in the mountains, Changewings that dwelled in Mirkwood and Scaldrons that inhabited the Long Lake.

Dragons had always been a problem for those who lived in Middle-Earth. No matter where you lived or who you were, you most likely had a dragon story or two to tell.

Bilbo Baggins had more than enough for his lifetime, thank you very much.

When he was very young he’d gone with his parents on a trip outside the Shire. His mother had been quite famous among the cautious hobbits for her travels east before she had married into the Baggins family. She’d come home with many stories about the dragons she had encountered and observed. Once she and Bungo married and Bilbo was born, she had wanted to travel one more time before she finally settled down.

Belladonna had planned the whole trip. She made sure they traveled to the safest places and took all the proper precautions. She wanted to share the wonders she had encountered with her husband and her young son. But dragons were always unpredictable.

When he was old enough to understand, Belladonna sat her son down to explain why his father hadn’t come home with them after that journey. One night when they’d stopped to make camp in an assumed dragon-free area, Bungo offered to go collect firewood while she set up camp. Soon Belladonna had finished and there was no sign of Bungo. She had made him promise to keep close to where they were but there hadn’t been a sound as the sun was setting.

He had ended up wandering too far from camp and found his way into a nest of Smothering Smokebreaths. Bungo had gotten lost in their thick smoke and began to suffocate before the dragons themselves found his poor father and killed him.

His mother never once placed blame on the dragons. She never expressed anger or hatred towards the beasts and explained they had probably felt threatened and acted accordingly out of self-defense.

“What would you have done, dear?” his mother would ask. “If someone you didn’t know wandered into our home, the first thing you’d do is to assume that person is a threat. What would you do?”

“Hide, probably,” Bilbo would mumble cheekily. Belladonna would sigh and explain it wasn’t in a dragon’s nature to do that as it was in a hobbit’s. Bilbo could understand the concept, but it still angered him that his mother didn’t blame the dragons for what they did.

It wasn’t till years later when his mother was dying of an illness that Bilbo learned she was the one who felt responsible for his father’s death. Even after all these years she felt she was the reason he had died.

“Look at me,” she chuckled quietly from her sickbed. “Dying like this. This should be your father. I should have been the one killed by dragons. It was my fault after all…my fault that he died.”

“Don’t say that,” Bilbo quietly shook his head.

“It’s true.” Belladonna paused to cough. “I begged him for months. ‘One more adventure, Bungo! You must see the world as I did! At least to the Misty Mountains!’ I wore him down until he finally gave in. I was careless, Bilbo…I should have left my adventuring days in the past…” His mother sighed, her cold hand gripping her son’s. “We shouldn’t have gone on that trip. I shouldn’t have begged him like that. It’s my fault he didn’t get to see you grow up.”

“Please, don’t blame yourself,” Bilbo tried to console her. “You couldn’t have known.” He almost wanted to shout at her for not blaming the dragons and blaming herself instead this whole time. “It wasn’t your fault.”

A few days after that, she passed away.

And just like that Bilbo was left all alone in the home his parents built.

He lived a peaceful life besides the occasional mad idea to follow in his mother’s footsteps and see some dragons. Eventually he came to accept Belladonna’s forgiveness for the beasts. He’d come across a journal she had kept documenting all the dragons she’d seen during her travels. Bilbo had spent weeks pouring over the illustrations and information in the journal until he too was fascinated by the creatures.

Despite his father being killed by a dragon, his curiosity burned to at least see one up close one day. From his mother’s stories they sounded like magnificent beasts. _If I ever get that close it’ll probably be my last few moments on this earth,_ Bilbo sighed sourly. Perhaps it was better he stayed in the safety of his hobbit-hole.

Eventually he had ended up adopting his nephew after Frodo’s parents died from a rare dragon encounter in the Shire.

Buckland had had an unfortunate attack that destroyed several homes and part of Brandy Hall. Five hobbits had been killed in the attack, two of them being Frodo’s parents. The attack had left Frodo an orphan with a bad burn scar across his chest and his right shoulder. For a little while he stayed with relatives at Brandy Hall but in the end Bilbo had volunteered to take his young cousin in. He felt they could connect over losing parents to dragons, and yet hopefully he could instill some of his own mother’s forgiveness and curiosity in Frodo.

So a few weeks later Frodo came to live with Bilbo and they’d lived peacefully ever since, although the first few months were hard on Frodo. He was quiet and didn’t eat much as he mourned his parents but Bilbo hoped at some point he’d be able to see him as a suitable guardian.

On a beautiful fall afternoon nearly a year later, Bilbo heard the first alarm bells. The horrible sound echoed through the air and chilled Bilbo’s blood. His heart rate increased as he remembered that the last time those bells had rung, Frodo had lost his parents.

Against his better judgment he stepped out of his front porch and turned his gaze to the sky, which happened to be dragon-free for the time being. Bilbo hoped that the bells were just a precaution. There were probably some dragons flying overhead somewhere and they’d be gone soon enough. That’s what the bells usually meant.

He hurried back inside and locked his door behind him.

 _Not that it’ll hold any dragons back,_ Bilbo thought grimly.

Frodo hurried into the room clutching a stuffed rabbit that used to be Bilbo’s when he was a child. He hurried towards Bilbo and clung to him, as he sniffled and whimpered.

“Now, now, Frodo,” Bilbo cooed gently. “We’re okay. I just looked outside; there are no dragons in sight.” Bilbo assured the young boy.

“Are you sure?” Frodo asked quietly.

“Quite sure,” Bilbo nodded. However, just because he hadn’t seen any dragons directly overhead didn’t mean they weren’t nearby. Anxiety clawed at his stomach and he tried extremely hard not to let Frodo know he was probably just as frightened as the young hobbit.

“Will the dragons come and take you away from me too?” Frodo asked softly, his voice shaking with what sounded like tears that were threatening to escape.

“Oh, my dear boy,” Bilbo sighed as he pulled Frodo close to him and squeezed him tight. He could feel Frodo’s arm constrict around his waist. “They use the bells to warn us that there might be dragons nearby,” Bilbo explained, combing his fingers through the boy’s hair as he finally released Bilbo. “But I’m not going anywhere. We’ll be just fine.” Bilbo assured him. “I promise you.”

“Okay,” Frodo silently nodded.

“Why don’t we go back to my study and we can find a good story for us to occupy ourselves with?” Bilbo suggested. Frodo nodded and rubbed his nose on his sleeve. Any other time Bilbo would have chastised him for it but all he could do was sigh and lead his nephew back to his study.

**x**

For the rest of the day, Bilbo discreetly checked the windows. He had been standing at the kitchen window when the warning bells went off again in the late afternoon. Shadows passed over the house and the shapes of dragons appeared in the sky, causing his heart to constrict.

He couldn’t let Frodo know the dragons were truly there in the Shire. He heard Frodo’s soft whimpers from his bedroom where he’d stayed the entire day curled up in Bilbo’s bed. Bilbo came away from the window and retreated to his room to try to calm Frodo again, assuring him that he was safe.

The next morning Bilbo stepped outside to see if there were any signs that the dragons had been there and was overwhelmed by the smell of smoke.  It burned his throat and stung his eyes. He turned to see a smoke plume rising in the north.

“Looks terrible, don’t it?” a voice called from the road.  Bilbo turned to see his neighbor, Hamfast Gamgee, coming up the lane and pausing to stare at the smoke plume himself.  Bilbo couldn’t form a proper good morning and Hamfast continued on.  “I just went down to the Green Dragon early this morning when I saw the plume to see what had happened.  Luckily I think the fire over that way has been almost put out, thanks, of course, to the snow we got last night.  Otherwise we might have had to pack up and get out before it came any closer.  If this was the dead heat of summer I’d hate to think what would have happened.”

“Right,” Bilbo muttered, his heart rate rising rapidly just thinking about it.

“Still, figure I’ll be cleaning out my garden of the flammable things just as a good precaution.  I can help clean out your garden next if you’d like, Mister Bilbo,” Hamfast offered.

“That’s very kind of you,” Bilbo said.  “I’d very much appreciate it if you did.  So, w-what did happen?” Bilbo asked.  “I mean, I know dragons, but…where?  It looks awfully close.”

“There was some damage done in North Farthing and apparently dragons have settled in Bindbole Wood,” Hamfast explained.

“That close?” Bilbo asked softly.  Hamfast nodded solemnly.  “And they’ve settled?”

“By the sounds of it.  Looks like they don’t have any intention of leaving.” Hamfast replied.

“What’s going to happen then?  We’re just going to have a settlement…a-a nest of dragons hardly twenty miles from our doorstep?” Bilbo nervously asked.  This would be very bad news indeed, if that were the case.  No dragons had ever settled near, let alone in, the Shire.  “We’ll be on constant watch for fires and dragon attacks.  That just doesn’t happen in the Shire.”

The worst the Shire had to contend with most of the time were Terrible Terrors. Bilbo had shooed one out of his home a few months ago. He’d accidentally left his kitchen window open and his fresh fish for supper sitting on the counter. That was usually the only kind of dragon nuisances they got.

Bigger dragon attacks were an odd occurrence and a product of dragons traveling from the Blue Mountains to the Misty Mountains or vice versa. The Shire was hardly a proper nesting ground for dragons. Now warning bells would be going off constantly; they’d have to live in fear for the rest of their lives or pack up and leave.

Bilbo swallowed thickly. He hoped that it wouldn’t come to that. His mind was suddenly trying to process where they could go if it were absolutely necessary. They could return to Brandy Hall…but now that area didn’t have the best luck with dragons. It might even bring up unpleasant memories for Frodo. They could head south towards Tookland. There might be better luck in the green hills.

“By the sound of it, they’ve sent for dwarves,” Hamfast clarified. “From Ered Luin. They’re accustomed to this sort of thing so they’ll be able to manage the dragons, I reckon. Get them out of our hair.”

“Do you think they could really remove a nest of them?”

“I hear they have to contend with dragons more than we do. Besides, they’re warriors; we’re not,” Hamfast tried to persuade Bilbo.

“I hope you’re right…I hope they can help,” Bilbo muttered.

“How’s young Frodo been taking to the warning bells going off like they have?” Hamfast shifted the conversation.

Bilbo talked to Hamfast for what must have been an hour before the door to Bag-End opened and Frodo peeked outside.

“Oh.” Bilbo turned back to see his nephew standing anxiously on the doorstep. “Well, thank you again for all the information. And thank you again for helping with the garden. I must have you, Bell, and the kids over for dinner sometime this week to thank you.”

“It really isn't necessary, Mister Bilbo.”

“Nonsense, I insist. Maybe some playtime with Samwise will do Frodo some good,” Bilbo suggested quietly. “A distraction from all this,” Bilbo said, gesturing to the plume of smoke in the distance. Hamfast gave an understanding smile and finally agreed before they both finally bid each other goodbye.

Bilbo hurried back up to the door to greet his nephew, who was standing and shivering on the doorstep.

“Everything alright, Frodo?”

“I didn’t know where you were,” Frodo mumbled.

“I’m right here,” Bilbo assured the young hobbit before ushering him back inside, hoping to distract him with Elevenses.

A week went by and the bells went off at least four more times. Each time Frodo and Bilbo would stay in Bilbo’s room and he would find different books to read to Frodo each time to distract him. They’d already gone through nearly ten of Bilbo’s childhood favorites and Bilbo was beginning to think about what else they could do to occupy themselves during the warnings.

One evening later that week, Bilbo kept to his promise and invited the Gamgees over for dinner. They had a brood of six children including Samwise, Frodo’s best friend since he’d moved in a year ago. Bilbo was pleased to see Frodo genuinely smiling when the Gamgees arrived and Samwise appeared, trailing behind his mother.

Luckily they made it through that evening with no warning bells, which was a huge relief to Bilbo. But after dinner when the kids left the dining room to play, Bilbo was left talking with Hamfast and Bell about the recent dragon activity. Thankfully no one had been killed yet, but many homes in North Farthing, and even a little closer to home in West Farthing, had been destroyed. The Green Dragon Inn was acting as a temporary refuge for those who had lost their homes.

“Hopefully they’ll be able to rebuild after the dwarves come and the dragons are gone, right?” Bilbo asked. He couldn’t imagine having Bag-End destroyed and having to take refuge with little to no personal belongings left.

“Yes,” Bell nodded. “Hopefully we can go back to our peaceful lives once this is all over.”

The night dragged on and soon the children were getting tired and restless and the Gamgees decided to leave. However, Sam and Frodo weren’t a part of the group clamoring to be done for the evening. Bilbo left the dining room in search of the two children that were missing and found them in Bilbo’s bedroom. He’d had a sneaking suspicion they’d be in there. The young hobbits were curled up in the armchair in his room, a large book opened in their laps and both boys fast asleep leaning against each other. Bilbo smiled at the two curled up together before quietly coming closer. Bilbo closed the book and moved it as he knelt down to wake Samwise.

“Samwise…” Bilbo gently shook the boy’s shoulder. “Sam, your family is getting ready to go.”

The sleepy young hobbit rubbed his eyes and blinked blearily as he woke. Bilbo helped Sam out of the chair without waking Frodo and led him back to the front door where his family was pulling on their cloaks and mittens.

“There you are, Sam!” Bell exclaimed.

“They were curled up together in my room,” Bilbo explained shortly with a smile.

“Bedtime, Sam?” Hamfast smiled at his sleepy son as he helped one of his daughters with the clasp on her cloak. Soon the family of hobbits had gone and Bag-End was left eerily silent. Bilbo locked the door and made his way around the hobbit-hole, putting out the candles that had been lit for the evening. He returned to his room to see Frodo had slumped sideways in the chair without Sam there to prop him up. Bilbo slowly roused his nephew who blinked sleepily at him and then to the other side of the armchair.

“Sam had to go home,” Bilbo explained quietly and Frodo nodded, drowsily. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Once Frodo was put to bed, Bilbo sighed retreating back to his own room. The evening seemed to have eased Frodo’s nerves a bit, but the discussion with Hamfast and Bell hardly did the same for Bilbo.

As he crawled into bed he hoped that once the dwarves arrived they’d be able to rid the Shire of the dragons. Bilbo settled into a restless sleep, dragonfire and dwarves haunting his dreams.

**x**

Another week or two passed and soon the dwarves from the Blue Mountains were swarming the Shire. There were sentries everywhere. It had been quite some time since dwarves had been called in to help the Shire with a dragon problem. Bilbo faintly remembered seeing many of the intimidating bearded dwarves in the Shire one summer during his childhood but nothing like this.

But the bells had been ringing less and less with the dwarves in the Shire.

“Why don't we go out to get something special for dinner?” Bilbo tried to coax Frodo. The young hobbit hadn't wanted to leave the house the past few weeks and they were beginning to run low on things. Bilbo needed to go out and start to restock the pantry.

Soon Bilbo was helping Frodo with his cloak, then picked up his basket to go to the market and ushered Frodo outside before turning to lock the door behind them.

They made their way down to the market, his basket in one hand, Frodo’s hand in the other.

As they shopped, the basket on Bilbo’s arm became heavier and heavier and he could tell Frodo was beginning to get tired. As Bilbo stopped at the bakers to peruse the loaves of bread, the warning bells began to ring and Bilbo was so startled he dropped his basket.

Silently cursing to himself, he bent down to retrieve the things that had fallen out. Bilbo was overwhelmed as he quickly piled things back into his basket. Frodo had started crying and the bells were deafening.

As he reached for the last few things that had fallen, another pair of hands appeared reaching for his things. Bilbo looked up to see a dwarf with long dark hair helping to pick up the last few things he’d dropped. Their eyes met for a moment and Bilbo was immobilized.

“T-Thank you.” Bilbo caught himself staring and finally called out over the sound of the bells and Frodo’s distressed crying. The dwarf seemed concerned before he looked up at the sky and towards the horizon.

“Do you live nearby?” the dwarf asked in a deep voice as Bilbo’s hand closed reassuringly around Frodo’s. The dwarf looked fairly intimidating with his furrowed brow and piercing blue eyes, but he seemed as if he wanted to help.

“J-Just up the hill,” Bilbo explained loudly. “That way,” he pointed with the hand that held the basket.

“I'll escort you to make sure you get there safely,” the dwarf told him. Bilbo began to shake his head. “We should have enough time, there aren't any dragons in sight yet.”

“Oh, t-that isn't necessary,” Bilbo started, glancing at the hobbits that were pushing their way into the Green Dragon until the warning was lifted, though that didn't seem like a good idea either. Just because they were inside didn't mean the building was fireproof. Bilbo began to feel panic rise in his chest. Frodo continued wailing and Bilbo decided it probably wasn't a good idea to force Frodo to sit in the still-vulnerable inn with the rest of the hobbits that had been at market along with the refugees.

“Come,” the dwarf motioned for Bilbo to follow him. Bilbo eventually sighed and decided to go along with the dwarf, lightly tugging Frodo’s hand as they left the market. The loud bells finally came to a stop as the last tolls echoed in the distance. The silence following the deafening bells was chilling.

“It's all right, Frodo. We'll be safe with this dwarf,” Bilbo cooed quietly. “He won't let anything happen, alright? There’s no need for tears now.”

The dwarf remained silent as they traveled away from the market and up the hill where Bag-End was. Frodo continued crying, though a bit quieter now, mucus and tears running down his face as the tiny hobbit hurried along at the heels of his uncle.

 _At least the bells have stopped now,_ Bilbo thought, thankfully. Without the bells clamoring away, it seemed to have calmed Frodo just a bit.

“Which one is yours?” the dwarf finally asked as they began passing other hobbit holes.

“Oh,” Bilbo pulled himself from his thoughts and hurried to catch up to the dwarf to lead the way. “We'll probably be fine from here,” Bilbo assured the dwarf.

“I still wish to see you all the way there,” the dwarf insisted. “It's…my job after all.”

By the time they got home, Frodo was only hiccupping and sniffling. It seemed as if the exhaustion had begun to overwhelm him and he had no energy left for crying. Bilbo unlatched the gate and turned towards the dwarf who had already turned away.

“Ah!” Bilbo gasped. “Thank you, very much!” Bilbo called with a wave, feeling Frodo’s hand clench around his own. The dwarf looked back before turning to continue down the way. “Let's get inside.” Bilbo led Frodo up to the door and let them in.

The kind dwarf quickly left Bilbo's mind as he set about calming Frodo down. They went down the hall to Bilbo’s room where Frodo felt the safest. Frodo jumped into the armchair in the room. Bilbo knelt down by the fireplace to stoke a fire.

“Would you like it if I made some tea for us?” Bilbo asked quietly, hoping the chamomile blend would help calm his nephew. Then he could begin to think about going about making a simple dinner for them.

Frodo nodded quietly and Bilbo gently mussed Frodo’s hair before heading to the kitchen.

**x**

The warning only lasted an hour or two before the all clear was called. They were just finishing their dinner and Frodo was nearly falling asleep in his food. Frodo jumped awake at the sound of the second bell tone and Bilbo was quick to reassure him it was the bell that told them the dragons were no longer a threat.

That night Frodo decided to stay in Bilbo’s bedroom. Bilbo tossed and turned after making sure Frodo was settled, his ears listening for the alarm bells again. He tried to concentrate on Frodo’s quiet breathing next to him in the bed and eventually he drifted off, only got a few hours of rest before waking up in the early morning.

He pulled on his robe and padded out to his parlor where he peeked out the window. Bilbo gave a relieved sigh seeing no sign of the dragons.

Later that evening the doorbell rang and anxiously Bilbo hurried to answer it. When he pulled the door open, the dwarf from the day before stood with his heavy cloak pulled around his shoulders.

“H-Hello,” Bilbo greeted. He stumbled for words as he furrowed his brows at the dwarf who only looked at him vacantly. “Can I help you?”

“I just wanted to make sure you and your… young son arrived home safely,” the dwarf explained quickly with an earnest look. Bilbo's face broke into a faint smile, finding the dwarf's concern endearing.

“We're perfectly all right. First of all, you practically walked us to the door. Of course we got home safely. There really was no need to come check on us. Second of all, Frodo isn’t my son; he’s my nephew…though I am his guardian. He was a little shaken up after yesterday but he’s doing okay now,” Bilbo explained and a small hint relief spread over the dwarf's features.

“I’m glad to hear that he’s doing well,” the dwarf nodded. “I just wanted to let you know, yesterday was a false alarm,” he explained.

“Oh…well…better safe than sorry, I suppose. Thank you very much for telling me.” Bilbo thanked the dwarf, shifting his weight between his legs nervously.

“I'll let you return to your nephew then. I'm…I'm sorry to have disturbed you.” The dwarf then turned to leave.

“Wait,” Bilbo called to the dwarf. He paused and looked back at Bilbo. “You've come all the way up here, I'm just about to start dinner, why don't you come in and join us?” A look of apprehension crossed the dwarf’s face. “It’s no trouble at all really.” Bilbo quickly explained, feeling nervous. Suddenly he was glad he had bought the plump chicken from the butcher at the market yesterday. He didn't realize he'd be inviting a guest to dinner but at least he was prepared. “Perhaps as a proper thank you for escorting my nephew and I home safely yesterday?”

Finally a timid smile appeared across the dwarf’s lips.

“I would be much obliged,” he turned back to face Bilbo.

“Think nothing of it.” Bilbo nodded. “But first,” he stopped the dwarf. “I should like to know the name of our brave guardian whom I’ve just invited inside for dinner.” Bilbo laughed a little incredulously at himself.

“O-Oh,” the dwarf stuttered. “Of course, Thorin Oakenshield, at your service.” Thorin bowed deeply. Bilbo smiled to himself, quick to hide it when Thorin stood straight again.

“And Bilbo Baggins at yours.” Bilbo blushed, inclining his head.

“I'm very honored to be considered your brave guardian.” Thorin moved forward once Bilbo had stepped to the side, allowing Thorin inside. Bilbo offered to take his cloak from him and hang it in the entryway.

They made awkward small talk as Bilbo set to work on making dinner for them. Thorin was mostly quiet as he sat and watched the hobbit move about the kitchen preparing the meal. Eventually Frodo peeked his head around the corner of the kitchen.

“Frodo!” Bilbo finally realized his young nephew had joined them. “We've got a guest joining us for dinner.” Frodo hurried into the kitchen and hid behind Bilbo. “Now, Frodo. There's no reason to be afraid. Don't you remember the kind dwarf who walked us home yesterday? His name is Thorin.” Frodo only tightened his grip on Bilbo and hid his face in Bilbo’s lower back. “He's the one who's protecting us from the dragons.” Bilbo gave an apologetic smile to the dwarf as Frodo clung tighter but peeked around Bilbo at the dwarf. Thorin gave a hesitant smile, which Bilbo thought looked more like a scowl and he couldn't help but laugh. Thorin looked anxious at Bilbo’s chuckle and the hobbit rolled his eyes.

“All right, Frodo.” Bilbo attempted to remove the young hobbit from his backside. “Why don't you go set the table for the three of us,” Bilbo suggested, before Frodo tugged Bilbo’s sleeve to get his attention. Bilbo leaned down and listened as the young hobbit whispered something in Bilbo’s ear.

“I’ll be the one sitting in the middle,” Bilbo assured his nephew. Frodo gave one more anxious look at Thorin before taking the plates and silverware Bilbo had set out.

“Let’s see…” Bilbo mumbled to himself. “I think I've still got some good ale left. Perhaps some wine?” Bilbo asked the dwarf.

“Oh, er, ale will be just fine, if you've got it.” Thorin replied as Bilbo hurried to the pantry. “Thank you,” Thorin added as an afterthought. Bilbo reappeared in a few moments with the mugs of ale.

“I'll go set these down and we'll get the food served up.” Bilbo smiled at the dwarf who still sat looking unbearably awkward at the kitchen table. Bilbo soon finished serving the food and had Thorin help take the plates into the dining room. Frodo was already sitting in his spot to the left of the head of the table. Bilbo took his seat at the head, which left Thorin the seat to his right.

Dinner was a much less awkward affair. They seemed to instantly connect once they'd got over the initial nervous tension of first impressions. Frodo kept a wary eye on Thorin throughout the meal but Thorin hardly noticed as he watched Bilbo cheerfully talked about hobbit meal traditions.

“Oh, yes. We eat almost every couple hours. Breakfast at seven o’ clock, second breakfast then at nine, and at eleven is Elevenses, and lunch at one, tea at three, dinner now at six, and supper at nine.”

“That seems like a hearty lifestyle.” Thorin smiled. “Sounds like you might be able to match dwarves in our voracity.”

“Oh, so you don’t think it could be the other way around?” Bilbo teased.

“What? That we dwarves must match up to you hobbits?” Thorin chuckled, raising his eyebrows.

“I think that’s more likely correct. What do you think, Frodo?” Bilbo tried to include his quiet nephew in the conversation. “Do you think dwarves can eat more than we do?”

Frodo continued eying the dwarf at their dinner table and shook his head.

“Are you saying you could pack more away than I can?” Thorin addressed the young hobbit in a teasing manner. A small smile appeared at Frodo’s lips, his bright eyes still watchful of Thorin.

“You should see him eat,” Bilbo boasted. “Occasionally he'll ask for seconds and thirds even when I'm too full to continue. He is a growing hobbit, that’s for sure.”

It wasn't long before the plates before them were emptied, as if the hobbits and the dwarf had silently agreed to a contest to see who could clean their plate the fastest.

“Well, it was delicious.” Thorin commented politely as Frodo disappeared into the kitchen with his plate. “I haven't had much hot food since we arrived, and I was missing home cooked meals. So this was truly wonderful.”

“Really? Are your hosts not feeding you properly? I'd assume you'd be fed, I mean, as I've been saying we _are_ well known for our food.” Bilbo explained, matter-of-factly. “Actually, where are you staying?”

“We're camped by the great tree just down the hill from here. In fact you could probably see it from the window,” Thorin explained.

“Oh, yes of course.” Bilbo shook his head. “Foolish of me to ask, I suppose. So the Green Dragon isn't offering to feed you? I'd imagine they would, seeing as we sent for you. It’s the least we could do.” Bilbo continued on.

“We don't want to impose too much,” Thorin explained. Bilbo gave him a bewildered look.

“You're helping us with the dragon problem. I hardly doubt anyone would say you’re imposing,” Bilbo argued.

“A few of those who have lost their homes in the recent attacks are staying there at the inn for the time being. They've got more than enough mouths to help feed without dwarves begging for food as well. It’s just…that there’s quite a few of us.” Thorin explained. “Occasionally they will promise food to the dwarves who come in seeking it but most of the time some of us go without and just eat the rations we brought with us to lessen the burden.”

“Oh,” Bilbo nodded. “I…suppose I understand that. Still, it’s hardly fair for the best of our defenders to go hungry,” Bilbo countered.

“You don't know that I'm the best,” Thorin quickly corrected him.

“And who said I was calling _you_ the best?” Bilbo smirked at the dwarf. Thorin looked surprised by the hobbit and chuckled. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I wouldn’t mind you coming around for dinner every now and again.” Bilbo explained. “I can’t very much feed an army of dwarves but…you, I could handle,” Bilbo offered. He could feel his face flushing.

Thorin smiled for a moment at a loss or words.

“Well,” Thorin breathed at last. “You are most kind.”

“Least I can do,” Bilbo admitted quietly. “And I think it'd make Frodo feel better to have one of the dwarves in charge of protecting us around for dinner as often as possible…one of the best, according to you.”

“I never—!” Thorin looked ready to argue before Bilbo burst into a bout of laughter and Thorin rolled his eyes.

“It'd make me feel better, too, by the way,” Bilbo sighed, recovering his breath.

“Will it?” Thorin asked, looked amused. “Just so you know, I'm not the best and I can't fend off a dragon by myself.”

“Oh? Well, now I'm really quite disappointed,” Bilbo teased. “I suppose I'd still like to have you around all the same.”

“I wouldn't object to that at all,” Thorin finally agreed.

Once the dishes had been cleared away Thorin insisted he'd been away much longer than he intended to be and should be on his way.

“Well, it was a pleasure having you by,” Bilbo commented as he escorted Thorin to the front door. “An unexpected one at that.”

“I’m glad I decided to come by.” Thorin smiled, accepting the cloak from Bilbo as he lifted it from the hook in the entryway. He quickly twirled it around so it landed on his shoulders and fastened the clasp.

“Yes, I just don't know what we would have done if you hadn't come to check on us.” Bilbo sighed, mockingly.

“Alright, I know.” Thorin blushed. “I'm just pleased I got to properly meet you and your nephew.”

“As am I, it was very nice to meet you Thorin Oakenshield.” Bilbo nodded.

“Trust me”—Thorin hesitantly reached out for Bilbo’s hand —“the pleasure was mine,” Thorin murmured, bringing the hand his lips. Bilbo could feel his face flushing harder than it had that entire evening and he began chuckling nervously as Thorin lowered his hand. They stared at each other for a few unbelieving moments before Bilbo broke the silence.

“When will you come by again?” he quickly asked trying to ease the sudden tension.

“It depends. When am I invited back?” Thorin asked.

“Oh, well…” Bilbo began to mentally calculate when he would be able to have the dwarf back. “You must give me time to go to market to fetch some new things…you see I was in the middle of shopping the other day when the bells went off and we've almost finished off the food I do have. Usually I have the pantry stocked but—” Bilbo rambled on.

“What if I pick a few things up on my way over?” Thorin suggested. “Maybe I can help you cook so I can pick up a few secrets from you hobbits. Unless that’s forbidden,” Thorin hastily added.

“Oh, yes, our cooking secrets are completely confidential,” Bilbo teased the dwarf. Thorin looked confused, as if trying to figure out if Bilbo was joking or not. “I’m kidding, Thorin. Of course, I'll show you any ‘cooking secrets’ I may have that you don’t know.” Thorin looked relieved.

“Well, that may be quite a bit. I’m afraid I don't do much cooking,” Thorin explained. “But I think I'd enjoy learning.” Thorin gave a bashful smile and bowed his head before stepping out into the early winter chill.

“And I, teaching,” said Bilbo.

“Well, I suppose I'll look forward to that then.” Thorin bowed his head slightly.

“Good night,” Bilbo called before watching the dwarf turn and head down the pathway to the gate. Bilbo partially shut the door, his eyes still watching the dark figure. Thorin turned to close the gate and caught Bilbo still watching him. Bilbo squeaked and quickly shut the door, missing Thorin’s quiet laugh before he continued down the path.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has been in the works since mid-June when HTTYD 2 came out and upon hearing Stoick and Valka’s ‘For the Dancing and the Dreaming’ Bagginshield immediately came to mind as I’m sure it did for others. I started jokingly throwing together an AU while discussing the movie and what started out as ‘Yeah, maybe I’ll write a oneshot’ has suddenly developed into a massive outlined fic with plot (which I haven’t actually planned & completed something of this scale before so [crosses fingers]). Also I may add more character tags/relationship tags/tags in general but those encompass what I've got so far. 
> 
> So I’d like to thank Marie ([speakfriendandenter](http://speakfriendandenter.tumblr.com)) who is the best enabler I could ask for and Kate ([bungobaggins](http://bungobaggins.tumblr.com)) my terrific beta who graciously volunteered early on and thank you to both of them who have let me come and spout my insecurities and bounce plot ideas back and forth, without them this fic would still be tucked away in my ‘Drafts that were sort of good but I never was inspired enough to do anything with it’ folder.
> 
> And you can find me at [hobbitunderthemountain](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com) where I’ll probably be posting fic updates and such.
> 
>  **Updated (5/29/2016):** Art for this chapter can be found [here!](http://dearzevran.tumblr.com/post/143420868540) Thank you, Emery!


	2. Good Company

Bilbo soon found out what a poor cook Thorin made.

The next time he came around he did indeed bring some ingredients for dinner. Bilbo set to work lecturing the dwarf about important cooking practices as he began to prepare the fish Thorin had brought. Thorin claimed he knew how to at least properly cook a fish but by the end of the evening Thorin had burned his fingers, spilled nearly all of the butter sauce, and accidentally dropped one fish into the fire.

A few evenings after that Thorin had accidentally sliced his thumb, added sugar instead of salt, and left eggshells after cracking the eggs Bilbo asked him to. Bilbo spent a few good minutes muttering under his breath as he attempted to fish out the eggshell pieces.

The time after that Thorin nearly burned Bag-End to the ground and that was when Bilbo finally confined him to the table to sit and watch while he cooked.

The hobbit learned that Thorin was normally a blacksmith and was much better with fire and heat when dealing with metals and not fried fish.

Other than the cooking mishaps, Thorin’s presence was very welcome. Much to Bilbo’s delight, the dwarf came over quite often. He was wonderful company despite his initial intimidating appearance. Frodo was still wary of Thorin but eventually began to warm to his presence. Bilbo often reminded his nephew that Thorin—and the dwarves by extension—was there to protect the Shire and so having him there in their home was a great honor. Frodo looked doubtful.

“Not all by myself, mind you!” Thorin corrected when Bilbo tried to persuade the boy one evening.

“No, no, he’s just being modest,” Bilbo protested. “He said he can take down a whole dragon army single handedly. He claims he’s one of the best dragon hunters out there.”

Thorin scoffed and looked like he was about to dispute the hobbit’s comment before he was interrupted.

“Then why aren’t the dragons gone yet?” Frodo asked.

“Oh right yes, Thorin, why aren’t the dragons gone yet?” Bilbo repeated with a sly smirk on his face.

“Because I can’t take down an entire _dragon army_ , Bilbo.” Thorin gave the hobbit a wry smile. “I can’t even take one down singlehandedly, trust me. I need at least three or four others to help,” Thorin continued. Bilbo rolled his eyes as Frodo began interrogating Thorin about the dragons.

“Well, you certainly are very curious tonight,” Bilbo commented after Thorin tried to answer at least five or six dragon questions in a row.

“I’m going to be a dragon hunter when I’m older,” Frodo decided and Bilbo nearly dropped the dish he was cleaning. “Just like Mister Thorin.” Bilbo frowned at the boy…the boy who cried whenever the bells went off warning them about dragons, the boy who was petrified by the beasts that killed his parents.

“No, you’re not,” both Thorin and Bilbo said at once. They glanced at each other before turning their attention back to Frodo.

“I think you’re growing bold because we haven’t heard the warning bells in a week,” Bilbo commented. “You’d be no match for a dragon.”

“Your uncle is right,” Thorin added. “Hobbits aren’t cut out for fighting dragons.”

“You’re only a little bit bigger than a hobbit!” Frodo protested. “How are you more of a match for a dragon than we are?”

“They’re much stronger than we are…and trained, Frodo. They’re warriors. Have you ever heard of a hobbit warrior that fought dragons?” Bilbo asked. Frodo shook his head in disappointment.

“I want to be the first,” Frodo told them with a determined look on his face. “I want to be trained to fight dragons! Can’t you train me to be a dragon hunter?” Frodo begged the dwarf.

“You do know we don’t actively go looking for dragons either.” Thorin tried a different route. “I’m really just a blacksmith. My official title isn’t ‘dragon hunter’.”

“I don’t want to go looking for dragons either.” Frodo sighed. “I just don’t want to be afraid anymore. _You’re_ not afraid of the dragons.”

“Oh, I’m plenty afraid of dragons.” Thorin admitted. Frodo grew quiet and looked confused. “Anyway, that doesn’t mean you’re going to learn to fight dragons,” Thorin finally added.

“I just want to be able to defend myself.” Frodo finally explained. “I want to be able to protect you from the dragons, Uncle Bilbo. Especially when Mister Thorin leaves the Shire,” Frodo explained quietly. Bilbo gave a heavy sigh and put down the dishes. He went over and sat next to Frodo at the small table and smiled sadly at his young nephew.

“I already told you, _I’m_ not going anywhere.” Bilbo leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Frodo’s forehead. “You don’t need to become a dragon hunter to protect me. The dwarves will keep us from any harm, so you don’t need to worry.”

Bilbo looked up to the dwarf just in time to see a heart-broken look on his face. “Thorin?”

“Y-You do realize I’ll be leaving just as soon as the dragons are gone, don’t you?” Thorin asked, softly. Bilbo bit his lip, and Frodo looked anxious.

“Will that be soon?” Frodo asked quietly. “And will the dragons _stay_ gone?”

“I’m not sure. About either of those things, to be honest.” Thorin gave a small shrug to the young hobbit.

“Why don’t you go wash up, Frodo?” Bilbo nudged his nephew. “Let Thorin and I talk for a little while.” Frodo jumped up and made his way out of the dining room leaving the two alone. There was a brief moment of tension as Frodo left

“You know, I really won’t be here for much longer,” Thorin gently reminded the hobbit.

“Of course, I know you’re going back eventually but…I don’t know. I shouldn’t have…it’s just…it’s reassuring to have you here and after all the dragon activity recently…and I don’t know.” Bilbo sighed, despondently. Thorin hesitantly reached forward to cover Bilbo’s hands with his own.

“I won’t be too far away, you know. If you ever have dragon problems again after this you can send for me personally and I’ll be here just as soon as I can,” Thorin promised. Bilbo smiled bashfully at their hands.

“I just can’t believe Frodo would…I mean, his parents were killed in a dragon attack last year. Ever since he’s been scared senseless every time the bells go off. I mean you saw how he reacted when you met us that afternoon at the market.”

“Sometimes that’s how you get your start,” Thorin explained, finally letting go of the hobbit's hands. “Revenge. Or a desire to protect someone from that fate.”

“Is that how you…? You know…got your experience with dragons?” Bilbo looked questioningly at the dwarf. He reached forward to distract his own hands with his teacup.

“You could say that.” Thorin gave a small nod. “Many of my family were victims to dragon attacks,” Thorin confessed.

“Oh…” Bilbo swallowed. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s just my sister and I left…her and my nephews. They’re the ones I want to protect. So I suppose I can relate to Frodo in that sense. We both have lost important people in our lives to dragons and want to protect those that are still with us from suffering the same fate,” Thorin justified Frodo’s unexpected desire to learn how to fight like a dwarf.

“I can understand that.” Bilbo sighed, gently nudging his teacup back and forth, staring at the amber liquid slosh back and forth. “My father was also killed by dragons. But I…well—my mother never blamed them. Still talked about them with respect. Maybe that’s why I don’t feel that urge to go look for dragons to…I don’t know… _kill for revenge_ or anything like that. Eventually, I came to see them as she did.”

"It's not about killing for revenge. It's about killing to make sure the people I care about are never subjected to such fates," Thorin argued, his gaze wavering from Bilbo's for a moment. “You never worried about dragon attacks after that? You never worried about protecting your mother?”

“No,” Bilbo shook his head. “Of course not. My father wasn’t killed here in the Shire so I never worried about dragons attacks and always figured we were safe here. My mother taught me it’s just their natural instinct and there’s no reason to be afraid if we’re not threatening them,” Bilbo explained.

“Well, that doesn’t quite apply to the situation at hand.” Thorin folded his arms across his chest. “Their _natural instinct_ to hunt and _kill_ ,” Thorin argued. “With the nest of dragons—Monstrous Nightmares…Deadly Nadders…the most threatening types of dragons—just a few leagues north of you, the Shire is— _you_ are in serious danger!”

“Their natural instinct is to protect themselves and _survive_ ,” Bilbo retorted, determined to defend his mother’s opinions. “Just as it’s our instinct to do the same.” Thorin frowned at the hobbit. “They aren’t just ruthless monsters!”

“Bilbo, you know it’s dangerous to think like that, especially now,” Thorin told the hobbit quietly. “You must realize that.”

“Well it’s a good thing _you’re_ here to protect us, then, hm?” Bilbo replied derisively. “No more talk about dragons, though. I’ve had enough, thank you.” He knew he was about to start losing the argument and would much rather not quarrel with Thorin. The scowl that was deepening on his face was not very flattering and Bilbo was beginning to feel intimidated by Thorin again.

“Hmph. All right,” Thorin finally muttered, the creases in his forehead becoming less pronounced. They were both slightly tetchy the rest of the evening but managed to avoid starting any more arguments. Thorin decided to leave a little earlier than usual and made Bilbo promise to stay safe.

“No, I’m going to go find the dragons for myself to prove you wrong,” Bilbo snapped, caustically. Thorin stared at him for a moment trying to determine if Bilbo was indeed being sarcastic. “I’m kidding, you oaf. We’ll be just fine and we won’t _actually_ go looking for dragons,” Bilbo groaned exasperatedly. Thorin looked irritated. “Now when are you coming around for dinner again?” Bilbo asked as if there was no choice in the matter.

“I’m busy the next few evenings,” Thorin muttered. “How about next week?”

“All right.” Bilbo nodded.

Thorin turned and left without any of his usual endearing goodbyes. After the first goodbye, bringing Bilbo’s hand to his lips, he’d toned it down a bit for fear of further embarrassment on both parts. But there was usually an arm squeeze or a handshake accompanied by a warm smile. Last time there’d even been an awkward hug. Bilbo groaned miserably and closed the door behind the dwarf.

**x**

Thorin returned to the camp in a much more sour mood than he’d left it.

“There you are,” a gruff voice approached him from behind. “You’re much earlier than usual.” Thorin turned to find Dwalin. “Are you ever going to tell us where you’re sneaking off to every night for dinner?”

“It’s not _every_ night,” Thorin muttered, taking his cloak off and placing it on his cot. “And I’m not…sneaking.”

“Oh, yes you are.” Another voice joined them. Thorin recognized his youngest nephew’s voice right away. “I’ve never seen you be more secretive. And why be secretive about a hobbit?” Following closely was his eldest nephew at his heels.

“A hobbit? Is that what this is about?” Dwalin cocked an eyebrow. “That certainly is surprising. I seem to remember you complaining about hobbits on our way here. Something about them being helpless little creatures who can neither fight nor fend for themselves.”

“No, you said that,” Thorin corrected, bitterly.

“Did I?” Dwalin tried to recall.

“Anyway, Fíli said he saw you heading up the hill the other day before dinner,” Kíli explained. “To one of the hobbit holes, no doubt. There’s nothing else off in that direction.”

“Why is it any business of yours what I do on my evenings off?” Thorin muttered, sounding ashamed he’d been caught.

“We’re family. We have to be nosy,” Fíli explained.

“Tell us about the hobbit,” Kíli begged.

“No,” Thorin frowned and turned his attention to busying himself with organizing his things that really needed no further organizing.

“Nothing? Nothing at all?” Fíli asked. “You’ve been found out, Thorin. Not much hiding left for you to do, now.”

Thorin sighed and looked conflicted about giving away more detail concerning his visits to Bag-End. They were private evenings shared between he and Bilbo, and his meddlesome nephews didn’t deserve to know anymore. But then again, he was silently dying to tell anyone who would listen about the hobbit that had managed to captivate him so much.

“His name is Bilbo Baggins.” Thorin gave in. “He and his nephew live in the hill, ten minutes walk from here.”

“And he just invites you around for dinner, does he?” Dwalin asked, looking pleased.

“He invited me for dinner after I escorted him and his nephew home after the false alarm a few weeks ago,” Thorin explained. “His nephew has been…traumatized by the dragons because his parents were killed by dragons not too long ago. So Bilbo likes to invite me around for his nephew’s sake.”

“Solely for his nephew’s sake, hm?” Fíli asked.

“First name basis,” Kíli observed with a smile.

“Enough questions.” Thorin began to blush. “You wanted an answer and you got one.”

“Now, hang on! That’s only the start!” Kíli protested. “How many times have you actually gone around for dinner? What do you talk about? What does he look like? Does he have massive feet like the others? What is his nephew’s name? How old is his nephew? How old is _he?”_

“I said _enough!”_ Thorin barked. “We don’t have time for this. Go get some rest, you’ll both be up at sunrise for patrol.” Thorin tried to shoo the curious dwarves away. Fíli and Kíli simultaneously groaned. They gave up before their punishment could become even more severe. The two left their uncle’s tent, their heads bent close together. Thorin had a sinking feeling in his stomach that they were planning something. Dwalin, however, remained in Thorin’s tent.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Thorin grumbled, turning away from his friend who was giving him a smug smile.

“A hobbit of all the possible choices in the world…” Dwalin chuckled.

“At least it isn’t an elf.” Thorin turned back and gave a small smile to his friend.

“Aye!” Dwalin laughed loudly. “At least it’s not an elf!”

**x**

The next few days were relatively quiet for Bilbo and Frodo. Bilbo was glad to have a break from entertaining the dwarf for a few days. After their tiff he was glad he wouldn’t have to face him for a little while. He felt terrible and responsible for their discussion turning hostile. Bilbo’s natural instinct was to defend his mother but he hated to admit that he could see the sense of Thorin’s argument.

He took to flipping through his mother’s journal about the dragons she’d seen and it only seemed to make Bilbo more anxious. However, he was still able to lose himself in the intricate drawings and detailed descriptions. As a child, Bilbo would spend hours carefully reading his mother’s detailed descriptions and drawings. They terrified him but fascinated him all at the same time. Bilbo remembered listening to his mother tell him about her various encounters with dragons as she would look through the book with him. Her calm and quiet voice would spark wonder into the beasts he read about. He never once thought those dragons would find them there in the Shire, which was a foolish thing to believe, Bilbo decided. Thorin was right, he should be more worried than he was. It was just hard to when he’d grown up with a mother who was so forgiving of the beasts that killed her husband.

He wondered what his mother would think if she were still alive. Would she be just as defensive of the dragons now, with them not very far away and threatening her home? Would she be terrified of them? Or perhaps she’d want to go find them to study them and try to determine why they’d settled so close when they never usually had any dragons settle near the Shire before.

The hobbit decided it was useless trying to determine what his mother would think in this situation and closed the journal, putting it away.

One night, just as they were finishing up dinner, Bilbo heard a ring at the front-door bell. He frowned, wondering who it could be at this hour when he knew Thorin would not be over for another couple days. Bilbo gave a confused shrug to Frodo as the bell rang again and Bilbo hurried to answer the door.

“Hold on, I’m coming!” Bilbo cried as he ran to the door and pulled it open to reveal two dwarves he did not recognize.

“Are you Bilbo Boggins?”

“ _Baggins_ , Kíli. It was Baggins.”

“Yes?” Bilbo looked confused. Their faces lit up.

“He’s—! He’s the one!” the darker haired one laughed. “Look at him!”

“How…can I help you?” Bilbo asked, very confused at this point.

“Excuse our rude manners,” the blond one finally addressed the hobbit. “Fíli and Kíli, at your service. We are the nephews of Thorin Oakenshield.”

“Oh,” Bilbo raised his eyebrows. “He didn’t mention his nephews were _here_ with him.”

“What?” the brunet moaned. “He hasn’t said a word to the hobbit about us?”

“Of course he did, though he failed to mention you were here in the Shire!” Bilbo interjected. To be honest, he’d imagined they were young children like Frodo, though he supposed that Thorin had never really mentioned their ages. “What do you need? Did something happen to Thorin?” Bilbo asked, panic rising in his voice.

“No, no, nothing of that sort!” Fíli assured the hobbit.

“He’s so concerned, Fíli,” Kíli whispered to his brother.

“Where...where is he then?” Bilbo asked, unsure why Thorin’s nephews would visit without their uncle.

“Out on patrol with Dwalin,” Kíli replied, looking around the front entryway.

“So…he doesn’t know you’re here,” Bilbo realized. “Why are you here?”

“To meet you, of course!” Kíli smiled broadly at the hobbit. “And to see where Thorin has been spending all his free time. Where’s your nephew?”

“ _My_ nephew? Why do you—?” Bilbo continued looking baffled as Frodo appeared on cue to come investigate who was at the front door, pausing in the parlor and staring at the pair of dwarves.

“Where’s Mister Thorin?” Frodo asked, which sent the brothers spiraling into quiet giggles.

“Oh, Frodo!” Bilbo exclaimed. “These are Mister Thorin’s nephews. Fíli, Kíli, this is my nephew, Frodo.”

“Are you dragon hunters too?” Frodo asked skeptically.

“Well, I suppose so. We’re here to help take care of the dragon problem if that’s what you mean. So you can trust us,” Fíli explained, remembering Thorin explaining Frodo’s situation with the dragons. “We’ll keep you safe.”

“Okay, they can stay,” Frodo decided, nodding to his uncle. Bilbo gave a tired smile to his nephew.

“Frodo says you can stay then, I suppose.” Bilbo looked to the dwarves. “I’ll go put tea on.”

The young dwarves followed the hobbits to the kitchen as Frodo admired the swords on their belts and the leathers and furs they wore.

“This is nice, did you do it yourself?” Kíli asked, looking around the home as they were invited further inside.

“No, it’s been in the family for years,” Bilbo explained as he found his kettle to put the tea on. “My father built it for my mother as a wedding gift.”

“You have a beautiful home, Mister Baggins,” Fíli complimented as they took a seat at the table opposite of Frodo who was watching them curiously.

“Oh, well thank you.” Bilbo smiled bashfully as he set about making tea.

The dwarves, like their uncle, were enjoyable company but they were so much more energetic. Bilbo wondered how young they really were—they seemed as if they were not quite adults—and how on _earth_ they had as much energy as they did. They kept up with Frodo’s steady stream of dragon-related questions and even asked Frodo their own questions about life in the Shire. Bilbo was just beginning to consider inviting them to stay for supper when the bell rang again. He wondered if they’d invited more dwarves or if Thorin had found out what his nephews were up to. Bilbo didn’t really like either of those options since he was worried he and Thorin still weren’t on the best of terms and he wasn’t up to entertaining any more dwarves. Bilbo opened the door and got his answer.

“Please don’t tell me—” Thorin groaned as Bilbo’s front door swung open. Bilbo stammered, he wasn’t used to seeing the dwarf in his armor with his sword strapped to his waist. He looked much more intimidating and severe than he usually did. Bilbo thought to himself that it had really not been a good idea to argue with this dwarf.

“I-I thought you said you were busy!” Bilbo finally greeted, furrowing his eyebrows. He suddenly wondered if Thorin had just said he was busy the next few evenings to avoid any more terse dinners for a little while.

“Mister Thorin!” Frodo exclaimed, who had followed quickly after Bilbo to see who was at the door. He bounced excitedly behind Bilbo, smiling at the dwarf.

“Hello, Frodo.” Thorin attempted to calm himself and smile back at the young hobbit. “Are my nephews here by chance?” Thorin asked, turning back to Bilbo.

“Y-Yes, they are.” Bilbo nodded and without hesitation Thorin invited himself inside to find his nephews in Bilbo’s kitchen. “Thorin!” Bilbo exclaimed, shutting the door and hurrying after Thorin.

“Oh, hello Thorin,” Kíli smiled cheekily, seeing his uncle charge into the kitchen. Fíli looked a little more nervous about being found out.

“You two!” Thorin growled. “You two should never be left unsupervised! I knew you were up to something!”

“Thorin!” Bilbo exclaimed. “Thorin, it’s all right!” He ran forward grabbing a hold of Thorin’s arm, which calmed the dwarf quite a bit.

“Have they been harassing you?” Thorin asked, turning to the hobbit. Bilbo chuckled and gave Thorin a shrug.

“Well, yes, but it’s perfectly all right. Frodo’s been enjoying their company,” Bilbo assured the dwarf. “You didn’t tell me your nephews were here in the Shire, too.”

“Because I knew they’d do something like this!” Thorin growled. “This wasn’t how I intended on introducing you. I thought if you knew, you’d want to meet them and I hadn’t quite figured out…how to go about it…” Thorin told the hobbit.

“But you were planning on introducing us, hm?” Kíli asked, with a satisfied look on his face.

“Well…yes,” Thorin admitted quietly. “Of course. Bilbo is a…good friend so of course I was planning on introducing you, at some point.” Kíli made an odd noise at the back of his throat, which Bilbo suspected was a smothered laugh. The hobbit furrowed his brows. He wasn’t sure what was so funny to the dwarf.

“Good friend, indeed.” Fíli nodded, raising his eyebrows. At this point, Thorin looked absolutely livid with his nephews.

“Do you wish for me to tell Dwalin about this? Perhaps you need some extra training sessions.” Thorin folded his arms.

“Oh, please don’t. The last time he trained us that hard I had bruised ribs for weeks,” Fíli complained. “He didn’t even let Kíli stop after he sprained his wrist and told us to train through the pain!”

“Yes, do you know how much it hurts to shoot a bow with a sprained wrist?” Kíli folded his arms.

“All right, then how about I let your mother deal with you when we return home?” Thorin threatened.

“ _No!_ Thorin, that’s even worse! Have some mercy!” Fíli exclaimed. “We were only curious!”

“Yeah, we’re sorry! We won’t do anything like this again!” Kíli promised, looking panicky.

“And have I your word?” Thorin asked, gruffly.

“Yes, yes we swear we won’t harass Mister Baggins again!” Kíli nodded.

Bilbo swallowed, wondering how being dealt with by their mother was worse than bruised ribs and tough training.

“All right, then. You’ve caused enough trouble, you may go finish what was supposed to be my patrol with Dwalin,” Thorin ordered. “You can tell him what happened.”

“Thorin, it’s all right,” Bilbo assured him. “They’re perfectly fine to stay…that is, if it’s all right. They were having such a good time with Frodo,” Bilbo explained and Frodo nodded enthusiastically.

“Please, can we stay, Thorin?” Kíli asked. “We’ll behave!”

“Please?” Frodo looked pleadingly at Thorin. The dwarf gave an exasperated sigh.

“I suppose Dwalin can finish the patrol with the back-up I had take my place. But you’re not getting out of this without punishment of some kind,” Thorin mumbled and the two young dwarves looked nervous. “Now, go back to your tea.” Thorin shooed them away and the younger dwarves looked confused. “Go.” Thorin snapped again when they didn’t move. Thorin nervously turned his back to the two dwarves and the hobbit.

“Bilbo, I need to talk to you,” Thorin told the hobbit quietly. Thorin paced further into the parlor and Bilbo hesitantly followed him.

“O-Oh? What is this about?” Bilbo asked, nervously, coming around Thorin’s side. He’d never seen Thorin so tense, though he supposed finding his nephews here did nothing to help his temperament.

“Listen, Bilbo…” Thorin looked up at Bilbo, warily. “I’m sorry I...I raised my voice the other night.” Thorin apologized before looking down at the floor. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I can tell you love your mother very much and I’m sorry if I insulted you in any way.” Bilbo heaved a relieved sigh that the dwarf was no longer angry and was even apologizing _to him_ when Bilbo felt as if he were the one clearly in the wrong. He gave Thorin a small smile before he turned his own gaze downwards.

“Thorin, it’s all right. You’re right you know.” Bilbo suddenly realized that letting Thorin know he was right wasn’t quite as hard as he imagined. Though he supposed getting Thorin’s apology first ease the way. “We’ve never had dragons settle in the Shire and it is different. I should be more worried than I am, and I can’t just pretend everything will work out because my mother thought of them more as curious creatures not dangerous beasts.” Bilbo anxiously fiddled with his hands. “But you will agree that I, as a hobbit, can’t just go pick up and become someone capable of fighting _dragons_ or anything like that,” Bilbo justified his side of the argument.

“Of course not.” Thorin gave a small relieved laugh. “But a little more caution would be appreciated,” Thorin explained.

“Of course.” Bilbo nodded in agreement. “I…I did realize you were right the other night, so I’m sorry for acting so stubborn,” the hobbit apologized again. “I just hate admitting I’m wrong I suppose,” Bilbo admitted sheepishly.

“Well, you two will be a good pair then,” Kíli teased from the kitchen and suddenly Bilbo and Thorin realized they’d been standing there listening the whole time. Fíli nudged his brother and it looked as if he were at least attempting to appear like he wasn’t hearing everything. Though he was doing a poor job of it, Bilbo thought to himself. “Thorin never admits he’s wrong, either. Look at you both.” Kíli folded his arms with a smug smile.

Bilbo smiled shyly at Thorin who blushed and remained silent, as if suddenly realizing they didn’t quite have the privacy he thought they did. Fíli awkwardly coughed trying to ease the uncomfortable feeling between them all.

“Oh, I was just about to start supper would you all like to stay?” Bilbo asked trying to divert all the tension building in the room.

“Actually that sounds wonderful. I haven’t had a proper meal yet tonight,” Thorin accepted, grateful for the change in conversation. “You’ve already had dinner, I suppose?”

“Yes, it’s just about time for supper,” Bilbo confirmed.

“Wait, just how often do hobbits eat?” Kíli asked, curiously.

Frodo launched into the explanation of hobbit meal times as Thorin helped collect ingredients from Bilbo’s pantry. The hobbit set to work on the supper that would end up being much larger than their dinner.

The dwarves ended up staying well into the night. Bilbo listened to the young dwarves talk about their uncle as Thorin would blush and refute most of the stories they told. Bilbo enjoyed himself immensely watching Thorin get flustered by the family stories Fíli and Kíli were telling.

Eventually Frodo fell asleep, his head resting on the dinner table after the plates had been cleared away.

Fíli nudged his brother when he finally realized the young hobbit was asleep and Kíli smiled broadly, laughing softly. That broke Thorin and Bilbo from their conversation and Bilbo finally noticed Frodo.

“Oh,” Thorin chuckled. “That should probably be our cue to leave.” Thorin joked quietly.

“It is quite late,” Bilbo realized. “Frodo never stays up very long past supper.”

“Our apologies for imposing on you so late then,” Thorin apologized, lightheartedly.

“It’s really no trouble,” Bilbo assured them as he stood up. He put a gentle hand on Frodo’s shoulder to rouse him from sleep. The young hobbit sat up and blinked, trying to remember when he fell asleep. “Are you going to say goodbye to Thorin and Fíli and Kíli?”

“Oh,” Frodo sighed sleepily. “Goodbye,” he muttered before putting his head back down on the table.

“Come on, Frodo.” Bilbo nudged him. “Why don’t you get to bed and I’ll be back to tuck you in once I say goodbye.” Frodo dragged himself off his chair and gave one last sleepy wave to the dwarves in the dining room. Bilbo followed the dwarves into the entryway and watched as they secured their cloaks and boots.

“It was a pleasure meeting you both,” Bilbo smiled at the younger dwarves.

“Even though that was very impolite to drop in on Mister Baggins like that.” Thorin glowered at his nephews.

“It’s really just fine, Thorin.” Bilbo refrained from laughing at Thorin referring to him as ‘Mister Baggins’. “I don’t mind. I was very happy to meet your nephews, even if it was quite unexpected.” Bilbo laughed. Fíli and Kíli looked immensely pleased that Bilbo liked them and Thorin just looked irritated that things didn’t go according to his plan. “Will you still be coming over to visit later this week?” Bilbo asked Thorin. “Fíli and Kíli are welcomed to come as well,” Bilbo added and the young dwarves perked up excitedly.

“Yes,” Thorin nodded. “I’ll be free tomorrow evening, if that’s all right. But I think I’ll make sure these two have patrol duty.” Thorin looked towards his nephews who looked disappointed.

“Will you at least let us come over to say goodbye when we leave?” Kíli begged.

“When you leave?” Bilbo looked startled. “Are you leaving soon?” Bilbo asked, anxiously.

“We’ll be leaving within the week if everything goes smoothly,” Fíli explained. “We’re almost done ridding the Shire of the dragons!” Fíli told him proudly.

“T-The dragons are almost gone?” Bilbo questioned. His tone of voice was almost disappointment and Bilbo mentally shook himself.

“Nearly. We’re clearing out the last of the dragons in nest the day after tomorrow,” Kíli continued. “There are only a few left, we’ve managed to either kill or chase off most of them.”

“O-Oh,” Bilbo stuttered.

The hobbit’s stomach churned upon hearing the news. Partly because it was so much sooner than he expected, but also because he was imagining the dwarves killing the beasts that wouldn’t leave their newfound home. Bilbo pulled himself out of his thoughts; they were creatures of destruction and needed to be dealt with.

“Y-You’re leaving so soon,” Bilbo finally muttered.

“We’re not leaving just yet,” Thorin assured the hobbit. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he extended his hand. Bilbo nodded and reached his hand out to clasp Thorin’s. With his other hand, Thorin placed a reassuring hand on Bilbo’s shoulder and the hobbit’s smile widened.

“Yes, see you tomorrow,” Bilbo agreed as Thorin let go and led his nephews out of the home and down the path. The hobbit sighed, watching them go and gave one last wave as Thorin turned around at the gate.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, I meant to get this out sooner but I haven't felt up to it since getting my wisdom teeth out last week. But holy crap thank you everyone for every hit, kudo, bookmark, comment (and likes/reblogs on tumblr)!! I never expected to have this kind of response let alone this early on!
> 
> This is a baby chapter compared to some of the later chapters I've been working on, my goodness. Things will get a bit more exciting next chapter, I promise but for now enjoy the fluff uvu
> 
> Thanks again to [Kate](http://bungobaggins.tumblr.com) who beta'd! And you can find me at [hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com!](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com)


	3. Home

Bilbo couldn’t believe the dwarves would be leaving so soon.

It quickly became the foremost thought in his mind and it was beginning to get irritating. His thoughts were constantly reminding him that his days with Thorin were now numbered. It shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did but he thought for sure they’d have more time than this. He supposed the dwarves had already been in the Shire nearly two months already. Bilbo was determined to enjoy the last of his time with Thorin and it seemed as if Thorin thought the same way.

The next day, Thorin arrived a little earlier than he usually did and Bilbo greeted him with a wide smile that was now a little bittersweet.

“I hope Fíli and Kíli weren’t punished too severely,” Bilbo greeted Thorin.

“I told Dwalin and instead of sharing my idea that they needed to be punished, he got upset that Fíli and Kíli hadn’t invited him along to meet you. You are a very popular hobbit.” Thorin sighed, undoing his travel cloak.

“O-Oh, I’m flattered.” Bilbo took the cloak from Thorin and hung it up in the entryway.

“I promised to introduce you to everyone before we leave.” Thorin nervously rubbed his hands together.

“And how many dwarves is everyone?” Bilbo asked.

“Erm…well…” Thorin thought aloud as the hobbit led him through to the kitchen.

“Too many to entertain in Bag-End? I could have a ‘going away and thank you for dealing with the dragons dinner’ party,” Bilbo offered.

“That would be quite exciting.” Thorin nodded enthusiastically. “I would hate to impose but we could certainly fit the number of dwarves I’m thinking of in here.”

They sat talking about the dinner party they could host for the dwarves for quite a while and eventually Frodo joined them and was told of Thorin’s grand dinner party ideas.

As they were sitting down to eat the warning bells went off. Bilbo jumped, startled by the loud noise and he immediately looked to Frodo who had covered his ears with his hands.  Thorin stood up and hurried to the front door. Bilbo was torn between staying with Frodo or hurrying after Thorin.

The bells continued to echo through Hobbiton and Bilbo went to Frodo’s side, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“How about we take dinner and go eat it in my room, hm?” Bilbo suggested, hoping that going to Frodo’s safe spot would calm him down.  Without an answer Frodo pulled himself out of the chair, his hands still firmly over his ears.  Bilbo picked up the plate with roast chicken and potatoes and followed Frodo back to his room.  As Frodo made himself comfortable in Bilbo’s armchair the bells finally stopped.  Bilbo knelt beside the chair and gently placed a hand on Frodo’s arm and the young hobbit finally lowered his hands.

“Bilbo?” Thorin called from elsewhere in the home.

“In here!” Bilbo responded as he draped a quilt over Frodo’s shoulders.

“There you are,” Thorin breathed.

“If you need to go—” Bilbo started.

“I’m not going anywhere.  I’m staying here until the warning is lifted,” Thorin decided.  “I didn’t see any activity outside but that doesn’t mean we’re completely safe.  There’s a reason those bells went off.”

Frodo suddenly looked even more upset by this news.

“Or it could be a false alarm like it was the day you met us?” Bilbo suggested, pointedly.

“Possibly,” Thorin nodded, realizing how pale Frodo looked.  “Whatever it is I’m sure the dwarves that are on duty right now will take care of it.”

“Are your nephews…?” Bilbo trailed off.

“They are, but they’re with my good friend and cousin, Dwalin.  He’ll make sure they’re okay,” Thorin explained.  “He’s always looked out for them.”

“That’s good to hear,” Bilbo sighed.  They retrieved their dinners from the dining room and Bilbo pulled up the rocking chair from the other corner of his room to sit near Frodo.  He offered to bring in the chair from his study for Thorin but the dwarf refused and sat in the window seat, keeping an eye out the window.

Once they’d finished dinner, Bilbo decided to keep Frodo preoccupied with riddles.  Bilbo could remember many nights spent trying to guess his mother’s riddles and it was an excellent distraction from whatever might be happening outside.

Bilbo posed a riddle for the boy. “What asks but never answers?”  Frodo furrowed his brow and thought it over for a moment before his face lit up.

“An owl!” Frodo finally answered.

“Very good!” Bilbo smiled as he thought up another one.

They spent a good portion of the evening solving riddles and every now and again Frodo would get stumped and Bilbo would turn to Thorin.

“Do you have a guess?” Bilbo would ask.  Most of the time Thorin wouldn’t know or his guess would be incorrect.  Once or twice he got an answer correct and would turn to smile gloatingly at Frodo, who would teasingly make a face at the dwarf.

Soon they began to slow down when Bilbo ran out of new riddles to ask.  He went to go prepare a small supper for the three of them and brought it back to the room.  Frodo slowly picked at the cured meats and bread slathered in honey and butter.

“Would you like anything, Thorin?” Bilbo asked before heading back to the kitchen to retrieve his own supper.

“No, I’m fine,” Thorin assured him, hardly looking away from the window.

“All right,” Bilbo shrugged.

After supper it wasn’t long before Frodo buried himself in Bilbo’s bed and Bilbo sat and told him short stories with happy endings to lull Frodo into sleep.  Soon the young hobbit was snoring softly and Bilbo was relieved that Frodo was able to get to sleep easily enough.  He knew the warning bells to alert them it was safe would eventually go off and wake him, but it was better to wake to the sound of the warning ending rather than to the warning beginning.

Bilbo got up and went to go make he and Thorin a cup of tea.  Thorin had been such a stoic watchman the entire night; Bilbo felt he might need something despite his refusal at supper.

Once it had been prepared, Bilbo carried two teacups back to the bedroom and handed one to Thorin.

“Do you really think you’ll be able to see anything out there?” Bilbo sighed, looking out into the darkness.

“I know what to look for.” Thorin held the teacup carefully in his hand as he pulled his stocking clad feet up onto the seat as well. “Monstrous Nightmares engulf themselves in flame, so they’re quite easy to spot.  They’re usually the first to attack but I haven’t seen many of them in the grouping that settled in the North.  The Zippleback is a little harder to spot but you can look for the spark from the one head but usually it’s too late by then if they’re already close.  Nadders are tricky too—”

“All right, I trust you.” Bilbo smiled, cutting the dwarf off before he had the chance to repeat every way to spot a dragon in the dark.  “What if this warning lasts all night? Shouldn’t you be returning to your camp soon?” Bilbo asked.

“I promised I would stay until the warning is over.” Thorin heaved a quiet sigh. “Even if it means sitting here until dawn breaks.”

“I really appreciate you doing this for us, Thorin...” Bilbo trailed off. “And I _am_ glad to have the extra time with you…with you leaving soon and everything.” Bilbo took a seat next to Thorin’s feet.  Thorin finally tore his gaze from the window and looked at Bilbo.  “You know I’m…I’m really going to miss you when you leave.  You’ve been such good company.” Bilbo gave the dwarf a faint smile and Thorin’s heart began pounding away in his chest, though he wasn’t quite sure why.

“I’m…I’m pleased to hear that.” Thorin struggled with the words, his gaze turning back to the window. He never quite considered himself ‘good company’ and to hear he would be missed was heartening. “I’ll miss you too, Bilbo.”

They both sat there in an almost uncomfortable silence.  The tension between them was horrendous, or at least that’s how it felt to Thorin. Every possible thing he wanted to convey to Bilbo lingered behind his lips as he continued to stare out the window.

Now he was much too inattentive to actually watch for dragons as his mind was occupied only with thoughts about Bilbo’s quiet words.

He was incredibly grateful for Bilbo’s hospitality. The nights he’d spent with Bilbo filled Thorin with an ease and comfort he only felt when in the company of his sister or nephews…perhaps a few good friends as well. Funny how a few good meals combined with good company created such a familial feeling.  After all, that was why he was there and not back at camp where he should be, was it not?  Not only did he feel protective of Bilbo but he also felt the need to look after Frodo as well…almost as if he were his own son.

That realization stirred something in the pit of his stomach as he turned to look at Bilbo, who was anxiously wringing his hands and watching Frodo sleep soundly in his bed.

Perhaps…was this feeling akin to love? Something different than the familial love he thought he felt?  Thorin blinked several times as if beginning to see Bilbo in an entirely new light for the first time.

“Thorin, are you all right?” Bilbo finally turned and realized the dwarf was watching him carefully.  Thorin made an oddly strangled sound before closing his mouth and nodding silently.

The thought of attempting to court the hobbit filled him with a warm feeling.  Quiet nights beside the fire, soft kisses, or even just gentle reassuring touches…the thought made Thorin want to reach out and touch the hobbit that very moment.  What if Bilbo felt the same?

“Bilbo…” Thorin started quietly.

“Yes?” Bilbo looked up.

“I…” Thorin hesitated, his confidence faltering.  

What if he _didn’t_ feel the same?  He was a hobbit and it probably wasn’t ‘proper’ to court a dwarf.  And Bilbo seemed like he was a very ‘proper’ kind of hobbit.  Besides, what would come of it if he said anything?  It wasn’t as if Bilbo would return home with him and he couldn’t stay in the Shire and forget his people back in the Blue Mountains.

“I…just—”

The bells that alerted everyone that the danger had passed quickly cut him off.  Bilbo looked apologetic as Frodo jumped up from his slumber with a shaky gasp.

“It’s all right, Frodo.” Bilbo went over to calm him down as the bells continued a bit longer.  “Those are just the bells telling us that we’re safe now.  It’s all right, Mister Thorin is still here watching out for us.” Once the bells had stopped, Thorin stood from his perch.

“Though that means I should probably head home now.” Thorin awkwardly tried to make an escape from the delicate conversation before the bells had rung.

“Wait a moment, don’t run off just yet,” Bilbo chastised as he came and stood in the doorway between his bedroom and the study, cutting off Thorin’s quick escape.  “You had something you were going to say.”

“It’s not important,” Thorin quickly assured the hobbit, having lost all his confidence.  It was probably a sign that the bells went off when they did.  “But I _should_ get back now.”

“All right,” Bilbo sighed as he made sure Frodo was okay before walking with Thorin to the front door.  

“You remember, we’ll be completely clearing out the nest tomorrow. So, stay inside. You should be safe but…just in case.” Thorin gave the hobbit a small reassuring smile.

“You should be worried about yourself.” Bilbo muttered, folding his arms.  “You’re the one facing dragons.”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds, we’ll be just fine.” Thorin promised the hobbit.  “I’ll try to come by tomorrow to tell you how it goes.”

Thorin found one last ounce of confidence in him and hesitantly leaned down and pressed a kiss to Bilbo’s cheek hoping it would convey what his words could not.  Bilbo flushed before tugging Thorin’s collar and bringing him in for a proper kiss. Their lips were pushed awkwardly together and Bilbo felt his nose press against Thorin’s cheek and his upper lip against Thorin’s bristly mustache.

“Just…” Bilbo huffed as they broke. “Just don’t do anything stupid. And please…please come by to tell us how it went. I’ll have supper ready and you’d better be here.”

“I will be here as soon as I possibly can, I promise.” Thorin nodded, swallowing hard. He stared at the hobbit while Bilbo tried to look everywhere but Thorin. “I-I’ll see you tomorrow, I suppose.”

“Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t you dare be late,” Bilbo demanded.

“I won’t,” Thorin promised one last time before waving and heading out the door and away down the path. Bilbo stood frozen to the spot and watched as Thorin left through the gate after giving one last glance back to the hobbit. Bilbo closed the door and heaved a quiet sorrowful sigh. The thought of the dwarves leaving pushed its way back to the front of Bilbo’s thoughts and he was absolutely miserable because of it.

**x**

Thorin was a bit surprised to find Dwalin, accompanied by Fíli and Kíli, waiting for him when he returned back to their camp. They were sitting around a campfire drinking ale as if nothing had happened.

Thorin groaned miserably, anticipating their questions and prodding about his visits up the hill. Then he began planning how to divert the questions about Bilbo and himself with questions of his own about the warning that evening. He was still flustered from Bilbo’s goodbye kiss and his mind was whirling trying to figure it all out. The last thing he needed was to have to be defensive against embarrassing questions.

“How goes the courtship of the hobbit?” Dwalin teased, seeing Thorin approach the fire. Thorin moaned, knowing this was likely just the beginning of it.

“Wait, you two _are_ courting?” Kíli sat up suddenly, nearly choking on his ale.

“No, we’re not.” Thorin shot a look at Dwalin, who gave a loud laugh at Kíli’s startled response. “Aren’t you supposed to be out on patrol or getting ready for tomorrow? What were those warning bells about?”

“We switched our shifts,” Fíli explained.  “The patrol was just a bit antsy about the dragons tonight. Afraid they’re sensing what we’ve got planned for tomorrow. That’s why the warning was raised. Another patrol just came back and declared it safe for the night so it was lifted.”

Thorin heaved a sigh, glad that there was most likely no real danger but upset that Frodo had been distraught for nothing.

“Well, are you at least prepared for tomorrow?” Thorin questioned.

“We’re ready,” Fíli assured him. “But, you aren’t you courting him? Bilbo, I mean,” Fíli asked, changing the subject back.

“He’s a hobbit,” Thorin muttered taking a seat beside the fire, next to Dwalin. He couldn’t throw their questions off forever and it’d be best to correct any assumptions they’d made.

“So?” Fíli shrugged.

“It’d be useless. He lives here, we live in Ered Luin—it isn’t difficult to come to the conclusion that it’d never work.” Thorin sighed. “I…I do wish to court him…in fact, I’d…well, I’d court him in a heartbeat, but our homes are too far away.”

“Don’t act as if it’s already been decided…it’s not as if we live on the other side of the map. The Shire isn’t too far away from Ered Luin.” Dwalin nudged Thorin trying to cheer him up.

“In the end, he wouldn’t leave his home, especially not with Frodo. Then what would I do?” Thorin asked. “Abandon Ered Luin to come live here?”

“If that would make you happy,” said Dwalin, with a faint shrug.

“You know I can’t.” Thorin looked pointedly at Dwalin.

“Dís wouldn’t be too happy, eh?” Dwalin agreed.

“She’d be murderous,” Kíli offered quietly. “We’d defend you, though. Right, Fíli?” Kíli looked over at his elder brother who was smiling sadly at his uncle.

“Of course we would. Assuming you allow us to come visit,” Fíli added teasingly, but Thorin still looked bitter. “Look Thorin, you have to tell him you feel this way before we leave,” Fíli begged. “I’m certain Bilbo feels the same way about you. Just from meeting him the other night, that much is clear.”

“Truly! The way you look at each other is just embarrassing,” Kíli added. “I feel like we shouldn’t even be in the room.” Thorin blushed furiously and looked almost hopeful for a brief moment as he remembered their awkward kiss, but then his mood turned sour again.

“I don’t _have_ to do _anything_ ,” Thorin decided. “It’s ridiculous to think that we could ever…” Thorin trailed off mid-sentence. “No need to keep thinking about it now. I’m heading to bed. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

**x**

That night Bilbo didn’t get very much sleep and his thoughts couldn’t be calmed. He was already on edge after the warning bells but the thought of the dwarves no longer staying in the Shire left his mind restless as well. Bilbo had grown accustomed to Thorin’s company and now on the very verge of the dwarves leaving, the hobbit began to realize how much the dwarf’s absence would hurt him.

Eventually he drifted off into an uneasy sleep, haunted by nightmares of dragons. He woke early in the morning, startled by one of his dreams. Bilbo hadn’t had nightmares that bad since he was a child.

The dreams left him tense from the moment he woke. However, most of the day passed uneventfully. Bilbo made sure to keep Frodo close and he stayed alert listening for the warning bells to tell them if danger was imminent. The day passed quietly and Bilbo’s panic began to ebb.

That evening Bilbo had gone to the pantry to find food for their dinner when there was a loud noise and the entire hill shook violently. Bilbo nearly collapsed in shock. There’d been no warning bells and his mind was sent into a panicked frenzy. He could hear Frodo’s screams from the kitchen and he ran to get to his nephew and see what damage had been done. The windows were all blown out; the glass littered the floor and had caused a few cuts on Frodo’s face. Bilbo began to panic.

 _“Frodo!”_ Bilbo’s voice cracked as he screamed. “Frodo, come here!” Frodo ran to Bilbo trying to avoid the glass on the floor and the older hobbit grabbed onto Frodo’s hand. Should they stay in the hobbit hole? Or should they try to leave? Loud dragon roars were heard from outside and Bilbo decided it’d be best if they stayed in their home. He hoped the hill could withstand whatever was happening outside.

The smell of smoke reached his nostrils and Bilbo realized that just outside there was a large fire in his garden and his heartbeat doubled. He ushered Frodo back to the cold cellar. It was built far enough into the hill that hopefully it could protect them from the heat and smoke coming from outside that was now beginning to fill the smial.

He began to hear the alarm bells sound and he let out his own terrified sob.

“Uncle Bilbo!” Frodo whimpered as Bilbo held him close.

“We’ll be safe here,” Bilbo promised Frodo in a shaky voice. “It’ll be okay.”

After a half an hour of staying in the cold cellar the smoke was beginning to overwhelm Bilbo and it stung his eyes and throat. He and Frodo were in the farthest corner of the cellar, crouched down next to the nuts and vegetables that had been harvested that autumn. Bilbo felt miserable and trapped, as he began to think this was no longer the best way to wait out the dragon attack.

Soon there was a loud cracking sound outside and Bilbo trembled wondering if the dragons were now breaking down their door. He began to think to himself that these were their last moments. The dragon would come to find them and he would die at the claws of one just like his father had. So much for the forgiveness his mother had taught him; in the end, it did him no good.

Something began to chop through the door, and Bilbo quickly realized it was an axe rather than a dragon’s claws. Through the smoke that was now pouring into the room, a figure appeared and Bilbo realized it most certainly wasn’t the shape of a dragon.

 _“Bilbo!”_ Thorin cried kneeling down beside them. His usual fur lined overcoat was gone and replaced with an odd cloak, with another cloak in his hands. “Mahal, are you okay?” Thorin asked breathlessly, his eyes tearful. Bilbo wasn’t sure if it was because of the smoke or not.

“We’re trapped by a dragon setting fire to our hill, of course we’re not okay!” Bilbo exclaimed, testily. Despite the biting tone he was beyond relieved Thorin was there. He knew they’d be safe in Thorin’s hands. For all the teasing he did about Thorin’s skills, Bilbo did feel safest in Thorin’s presence.

“You have to get out of here.” He draped what Bilbo soon realized was a sopping wet cloak over him and the dwarf scooped Frodo up into his arms. The young hobbit wrapped his arms around Thorin’s neck and buried his face into the crook of Thorin’s neck. “Cover your mouths the best you can and follow me.” Thorin helped Bilbo up and held tightly onto his hand.

“Thorin!” Bilbo coughed violently. “The dragons!”

“You’ll be safer outside, I promise!” Thorin called, his voice hoarse from the smoke.

As they approached the front door, Bilbo could see the damage. He noticed his green round door had been chopped through like it was firewood and the green was now tarnished by the smoke and fire. All Bilbo could see outside was flame and smoke and no potential way out.

 _“Thorin!”_ Bilbo cried stopping dead in his tracks.

 _“Come on!”_ Thorin shouted, tugging on Bilbo’s hand. “We have no time to lose, just trust me!” Bilbo closed his eyes for a moment before nodding and following Thorin through the blinding smoke. He could feel the sweltering heat from the fire and his sweat mixed with the cold water drenching him. They fell out onto the path and Thorin led them a little  further before Bilbo’s legs collapsed underneath him. Thorin put Frodo down carefully next to Bilbo as he went to him to make sure he wasn’t injured. The hobbit was staring wide-eyed back the way they’d come and Frodo had begun to sob loudly.

The hill behind them was flaming, smoke billowing upwards into the sky. Just on the other side of the hill he saw more flames, and the wings of a dragon flailing on its back.

“Bilbo,” Thorin breathed, helping Bilbo sit up. Soon Kíli appeared and hurried over to them. He went to comfort Frodo who went immediately into the dwarf’s arms.

Bilbo felt numb, silently watching the fire engulf the hill. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach, and his entire body seemed to shake as he turned and vomited in the grass.

“Bilbo!” Thorin called, gently rubbing the hobbit’s back as Bilbo shook, wiping the vomit from his mouth. “We’re not safe here,” Thorin told him as he tried to help clean Bilbo up before getting him back on his feet. Kíli quickly helped Frodo onto his back in order to carry the boy who was too miserable to walk. “Bilbo, we have to get out of here. It isn’t safe,” Thorin pleaded as Bilbo tried to resist.

“Please…Thorin!” Bilbo cried. “You have to…! I-I…!”

“There’s nothing we can do right now!” Thorin bellowed. “I have to get you to safety!”

Thorin finally got the hobbit to turn away and he helped escort them away from the hill towards the Green Dragon. The rest of the Shire was eerily silent. Bilbo could hardly process what was happening as he heard the blood-curdling shrieks from the dragon back by Bag-End. Hardly an hour ago he was thinking about what he’d be making for dinner and now his home was engulfed in flame.

They arrived at the Green Dragon Inn and Bilbo was relying heavily on Thorin’s assistance to continue walking. Frodo was sobbing into Kíli’s shoulder and Thorin saw to it that Bilbo and Frodo had a place to stay there at the inn.

After being led to one of the last open rooms with one decent sized bed, Thorin got them situated. He took his dry overcoat from Kíli to whom he had given the coat just before running into Bag-End. The dwarf helped Bilbo out of his now soaked overcoat and Thorin placed his own around the hobbit’s shoulders before leaving to retrieve supper for Bilbo and Frodo. Kíli put Frodo down and knelt to start a fire in the empty fireplace. Frodo continued crying for a while and once Kíli had finished building the fire, the dwarf picked the young hobbit up again. He sat in the chair beside the fire, trying to calm Frodo down.

Thorin returned to the room with a few bowls of stew and a loaf of bread as well as tea and some bandages. Bilbo didn’t look interested in the food as he stared into the fire and listened to Frodo’s now small, exhausted sobs and hiccups accompanied by Kíli’s quiet soothing voice.

Thorin sighed and placed the tray of food on the bedside table and took a seat next to Bilbo on the bed.

Bilbo leaned against Thorin and the dwarf wrapped an unsure arm around Bilbo’s shoulders. He sat quietly against Thorin while Frodo cried until he eventually fell asleep in Kíli’s arms. Kíli set him down as gently as he could in the chair by the fire and retrieved the bandages. He cleaned the cut with the hot water for the tea and was able to bandage Frodo’s cut without waking him. While Kíli took care of Frodo, Thorin moved a hand up to gently run his hand through Bilbo’s hair as quiet tears continued dripping down Bilbo’s cheeks.

“You’re safe,” Thorin told him softly. “You’re both safe and alive and that’s what is important.”

“O-Our _home_ …” Bilbo gasped, his breath still shaky.

“Bilbo, it’ll be okay,” Thorin tried to comfort the hobbit.

“I-I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Bilbo wept, miserably. “Th-Th-That home was…was everything. All my parents things—!” Bilbo choked as he seemed to finally grasp that everything in their home would be destroyed. _“I’ll have nothing left!”_

“We’ll go back tomorrow and see how much damage was done,” Thorin promised.

 _“If_ there’s anything left,” Bilbo moaned weakly, the tears beginning to flow again.

“Don’t despair just yet.” Thorin tried soothing the hobbit. “The dragon was just about taken care of when we left. The fire should be put out soon as well.”

“I’m…I’m going to have to rebuild it all…” Bilbo sighed, tears beginning to come more consistently.

“Bilbo,” Thorin murmured. “If…If need be I can stay a little longer to help you rebuild your home.”

Bilbo hiccupped looking up at Thorin.

“You will?” Bilbo breathed, shakily.

“Of course.” Thorin nodded, resolutely. “If that’s what you wish. Anything you need me to do, I can help.”

“I’ll stay too,” Kíli offered quietly. “So will Fíli.”

“Th-Thank you,” Bilbo muttered, almost inaudibly. Thorin sighed giving one more squeeze to Bilbo’s shoulders.

“It’ll be okay, Bilbo. Really, it will be…but I should go and you should lie down and rest. I’ll come back tomorrow and we’ll talk a little more,” Thorin promised.

“No, wait. Don’t go, not yet.” Bilbo reached out for Thorin’s hand, fighting back more sobs. “Please, don’t go.” Thorin stared at their hands for a moment before leaning down to pull Bilbo’s hand to his lips and closed his eyes.

“I’m so sorry this happened, Bilbo,” Thorin murmured, before lowering the hand, his gaze meeting Bilbo’s tearful, exhausted one. “But I have to return to make sure the dragons have been dealt with.”

“Don’t get yourself killed,” Bilbo begged. “If you….” Bilbo trailed off as if he didn’t want to speak the rest of that sentence out loud.

“I’ll be here in the morning,” Thorin promised. He leaned down once more, this time to gently kiss Bilbo’s forehead. “As soon as I possibly can, I’ll be here,” Thorin assured him, mirroring his promise he’d made the day before. “Now, please,” Thorin begged. “Lie down and get some rest.” Thorin helped Bilbo climb under the covers before he turned to his nephew. “Kíli, come.” Thorin strode towards the door.

“Can’t I stay?” Kíli begged quietly looking back down at the small hobbit in his arms.

“No, we must join your brother and Dwalin,” Thorin explained, gruffly. “The job isn’t done yet.”

Kíli sighed and stood up to gently place Frodo next to Bilbo in the large bed.

“I’m sorry,” Kíli muttered quietly, lying Frodo down carefully and pulling the blankets over the young hobbit.

“Thank you, Kíli.” Bilbo smiled weakly at the younger dwarf.

“Get some good rest,” Thorin sighed before turning to leave. Once Thorin and Kíli left the inn, Kíli turned to his uncle.

“Are you ever going to tell him how you feel?” Kíli asked. Thorin huffed and tightened his cloak around his shoulders.

“Don’t you think he’s got enough of his mind right now?” Thorin barked before picking up his pace and hurrying ahead. “He doesn’t need me adding to his stress.”

**x**

When Bilbo woke up the next day, he could scarcely remember what had happened. He blinked slowly; his throat felt raw, his mouth tasted awful. His hands found the fur of Thorin’s overcoat on the bed that had been draped over he and Frodo the night before. Bilbo sat up slowly and rubbed his stinging eyes before he noticed Thorin sitting in the chair by the fire.  He suddenly remembered that they had stayed the night in the Green Dragon.

It all seemed like it had been a terrible nightmare, but it had all been real. Bilbo breathed in deeply, finding Frodo curled against his side in the bed, with a bandage on his cheek. The hobbit then turned his attention back to the dwarf who was fast asleep in the chair. A small tired smile tugged at Bilbo’s lips, glad to see the dwarf there, keeping his promise from the night before.

There was a bandage on Thorin’s forehead and it looked as though his sleeve was very bloodstained. Bilbo wondered if they were injuries he’d sustained before or after he had escorted them to the inn and if Bilbo just hadn’t noticed.

The hobbit rubbed his face, exhaustedly, before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He realized he was still in his clothes from the day before. There were smudges of soot, one of his sleeves was singed, and his skin still felt damp and clammy.

Bilbo finally noticed Kíli was also in the room, sitting on the floor against the wall whittling something.

“Oh,” Bilbo sighed. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Kíli muttered. The young dwarf put the whittling down and stood up, going over to Thorin.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to—” Bilbo was about to stop the dwarf. Thorin jumped awake as his nephew gently roused him from sleep.

“He wanted me to wake him when you woke,” Kíli explained as Thorin groggily blinked in the daylight.

“Bilbo,” Thorin breathed, trying to wake himself up. He rubbed his eyes, stood up, and unsteadily came to sit next to the hobbit on the bed.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Bilbo admitted shakily as Thorin embraced him.

“Of course.” Thorin let Bilbo go and gently took the hobbit’s hands.

“Do you…er, need a moment alone?” Kíli asked uncertainly.

“No, no.” Thorin shook his head, turning towards his nephew. “It’s all right.”

Kíli sighed and nodded before going back to whittling in the corner of the room.

“Now, how are you feeling? Are you all right?” Thorin turned back to Bilbo.

“I…I think I should be asking you.” Bilbo reached up to touch the bandage on Thorin’s face. “What happened?” Bilbo asked.

“This is nothing.” Thorin shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“Hmm,” Bilbo sighed, as if he wasn’t sure if he believed him or not.

“Truly. I’m only concerned about you. Now, are you all right?” Thorin repeated his question.

“Well, I’m alive.” Bilbo sighed, rubbing his temples. “Was the dragon…?”

“The dragon is dead,” Thorin quickly confirmed.

“Wh-What happened?” Bilbo asked. “Why were the dragons this far south?”

“While the nest was being cleared a few went in a direction we had not anticipated,” Thorin explained. “Including the one that flew to Hobbiton. Luckily, Fíli and Kíli and I were patrolling the south border of Bindbole Wood to watch for incidents like that and we saw the dragon headed straight to Hobbiton… and then I panicked. I ran as hard as I could…”

“Were any other homes destroyed?” Bilbo asked quietly. “Or anyone else injured?”

“No hobbits, no.” Thorin shook his head. “Though a few dwarves were fatally wounded.”

Bilbo breathed in deeply closing his eyes, trying to process it all. Finally he opened his eyes again and reached forward to pull Thorin into another hug.

“I’m—I’m glad you’re okay,” Bilbo muttered. He buried his face into Thorin’s shoulder and gave a shuddering sob. He felt Thorin reciprocate the hug as his arms tighten around Bilbo and he felt as if everything was fine…or that it would be fine eventually.

“As I’m glad you’re okay,” Thorin assured him. “When I saw the hill on fire…I’d assumed the worst.”

“Well, if you hadn’t come along when you did…” Bilbo muttered, trailing off. Thorin finally loosened his grip.

“It’s all right, now.” Thorin let go of Bilbo and gently rubbed the hobbit’s shoulder.

After a quick breakfast of the stale bread from the night before, Thorin escorted Bilbo back to the very damaged Bag-End. While Thorin and Bilbo were gone, Kíli promised to look after Frodo when he woke up.

Fíli met them on Bagshot Row.

“I’ve already spoken to a few of your neighbors,” Fíli explained quietly. “They were worried about you and Frodo.”

“A-Are they okay?” Bilbo asked, suddenly remembering that he may not be the only one affected by last night.

“There’s only minor damage done to the homes lower on the hill,” Fíli explained. Bilbo nodded quietly, thankful no one else had been displaced like they had. The blond dwarf quietly escorted them up the hill to Bag-End.

The first thing they saw was the tree on top of the hill warped and twisted into black, scorched remains. The green grass that usually covered the hill was gone and replaced with cinders. A small patch of Bilbo’s garden remained green and the color looked misplaced among the grey ash. The hill on one side had partially collapsed and the windows were all shattered.

Bilbo breathed in, trying to reign in his emotions, his voice catching in his throat. He felt Thorin’s hand clasp his own as they arrived at the charred remains of the gate and mailbox. The hobbit pushed his way forward and passed the threshold. The house was dark and the overcast sky above did not provide any extra lighting. The soot and ash covered everything and many things were still damp from the attempt to stop the fire.

Thorin allowed Bilbo some space as he made his way through the portions of the home he could still walk through. Thorin and Fíli stayed near the front and quietly discussed what was to be done now that the dragons were gone.

Soon Fíli excused himself to see what else he could do and left Thorin hovering uneasily in what used to be Bag-End’s front hallway. He decided he should probably go and check to make sure Bilbo was doing okay.

Thorin found Bilbo in what used to be the hobbit’s study. He could see Bilbo’s face was smudged with soot and it looked as if he’d been crying. The hobbit was standing in the soot and ash next to the still partially standing desk, thumbing through a journal.

“What have you found?” Thorin asked quietly.

“Not much,” Bilbo sighed showing Thorin a few of the things he’d grabbed. “At least, the things most important to me are…still in tact.” There were two portraits Thorin recognized that usually hung above the fireplace. “My parents…” Bilbo gestured to the portraits. Thorin carefully picked up the portraits and looked them over.

“They’re not badly damaged.” Thorin raised his eyebrows in surprise. The portraits were a little warped from the heat but for the most part looked fine. “And what’s this?” Thorin gestured to the other thing in Bilbo’s hands: a book.

“My mother’s journal,” Bilbo explained as he flipped through a few pages.  Thorin could tell it had been damaged but it was for the most part still readable.  “It’s where she documented the dragons she’d come across during her travels before she married my father,” Bilbo explained.

“You didn’t tell me your mother traveled to see the dragons.” Thorin raised his eyebrows, curiously. “This is very impressive. Very few dwarves are even brave enough to go out and study dragons, even from a safe distance…is that why she was so forgiving of them?”

Bilbo nodded with a bleak smile.  Thorin looked down at the portraits he was still holding and studied the one of Bilbo’s mother a bit closer before setting them back down.

“What else do you want to look for?” Thorin asked quietly.

“Well…” Bilbo sighed looking around.  “Finding some clothes that aren’t destroyed would be nice.  And perhaps, anything of Frodo’s that I can bring him…I already looked, his room is almost completely destroyed.” Bilbo’s voice cracked.

“We’ll find something,” Thorin assured him.  They went back to Frodo’s room first and Bilbo pointed Thorin in the direction of Frodo’s wardrobe.  Thorin was able to move some of the rubble and find a shirt or two and a pair of trousers.  They looked like they’d barely survived but Bilbo was sure if he washed and repaired them they’d do okay.

They spent the next hour sifting through the rubble in Bilbo’s room.  It was hard to believe that they’d spent the evening two nights before in that very room, enjoying a comfortable dinner and game of riddles while they waited out the warning.  

“Bilbo?” Thorin called while Bilbo attempted to sort out what clothes had survived in his partially intact wardrobe.  He turned around and saw Thorin holding a small familiar drenched object.  “I thought I saw that Frodo had a hold of this the other evening, is this something…?”

Bilbo took the object from Thorin and gently turned it over in his hand.  He suddenly realized it was Frodo’s small stuffed rabbit— _his_ stuffed rabbit that he’d given his nephew just after he adopted him. Before he could stop himself, more tears dripped down his cheek and he gave a shuddering sigh.

“Good,” Bilbo muttered weakly.  “Good.” It was nearly ruined. The thing was drenched and torn and covered in filth but Bilbo hoped he could clean it and dry it out before making some small repairs to it…it might be worth saving. At least it would be _something._

“Were you able to find anything salvageable?” Thorin asked.

“A few things that might be able to be cleaned. A lot of my things are properly ruined.” Bilbo sighed. “I just…don’t know what’s going to happen…do you think Bag-End can still be repaired?” Bilbo asked timidly. Thorin heaved a sigh and looked around.

“I would be lying if I said it would be an easy task.  It would be difficult rebuilding the part that caved in…and trying to replace the furnishing you had before might prove tricky. But it’s possible…I suppose,” Thorin explained. Bilbo nodded glumly.

“It just won’t be the same though, will it?” Bilbo asked, depressingly, fighting back tears.

“No, I’m afraid not…” Thorin shook his head.

“I…I can’t believe this happened.” Bilbo’s voice cracked as if he were about to start crying again. The hobbit quickly turned away from Thorin, attempting to hide his face under the façade of looking around at the damage once more.

“Bilbo…may I ask you something?” Thorin asked, hesitantly reaching out to touch Bilbo’s shoulder comfortingly. Bilbo sniffled, turning back to Thorin, and nodded. “Don’t despise me but I’m going to make a suggestion, which you are absolutely allowed to decline.”

“W-What is it?” Bilbo asked apprehensively, trying to control the tears that were beginning to fall down his cheeks once again.

“You…You could come live with us in Ered Luin,” Thorin offered. “You and Frodo. It could offer a bit more protection from the dragons for Frodo’s sake and…and a home that doesn’t need rebuilding…and…w-well…we could have a life together.” Thorin’s voice waivered.

“Live with you…in the mountains? L-L-Leave the Shire?” Bilbo asked, having a hard time controlling his breathing. Thorin wondered if he’d turn him down straight away as he watched the hobbit hurry to wipe away fresh tears with his free hand. “H-Hobbits don’t just…go live in the mountains with dwarves, Thorin!” Bilbo protested, shakily. “I—I mean…I...”

“I understand…but please consider it,” Thorin pleaded, stepping forward and gently taking Bilbo’s face in his hands and brushing away the tears that continued to silently roll down his face. Bilbo closed his eyes and leaned into Thorin’s gentle touch. The hobbit’s brows furrowed, warm tears clinging to his eyelashes. “I…I think I may love you, Bilbo,” Thorin admitted quietly, before looking slightly surprised at his own admission. Bilbo’s face contorted as he opened his eyes.

“W-What?” Bilbo choked over a soft sob. Thorin looked apprehensive for a moment before nodding wordlessly, taking Bilbo’s hand in his.

“I-I just know I want to be a part of yours and Frodo’s lives, if you’d allow it,” Thorin continued on softly. "And after everything that's happened…”

The hobbit blinked at their intertwined hands, trying to process the fact that a dwarf had just admitted he loved him. Thorin silently raised the hand to his lips and Bilbo gave a faint smile at the familiar gesture.

“I-I…well…” Bilbo stammered. Thorin lowered Bilbo’s hand. “Oh, my.”

“There’s no need to respond to any of this today,” Thorin tried to reassure the hobbit.

Bilbo tried to calm himself and he remained speechless, his lips still parted in surprise. Tears continued to silently roll down his cheeks. He nodded hesitantly.

“Y-Y-Yes. I…I should think I’d need some time to consider…I…I have to ask Frodo, as well,” Bilbo explained.

“Well, I’m…honored you’ll consider it at all,” Thorin admitted. Bilbo nodded numbly at the dwarf as he took Thorin’s proffered hand and followed him out of the house. The hobbit could hardly process everything that had happened.

Within just one day his life had been turned completely upside down and it seemed that there were more changes to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we're getting somewhere now ahahahhhh ಥ‿ಥ 
> 
> Thanks again for everyone who's commented/left kudos, reblogged/liked and continued to read! It all means so much to me oh man...Sorry for a tiny bit of a wait but I hope it was worth it c:


	4. Introductions and Farewells

Deciding to leave the Shire would be one of the hardest decisions of Bilbo’s life.

He spent sleepless nights at the Green Dragon debating with himself about the pros and cons of leaving their life there in the Shire and taking up a life with dwarves. It seemed impossible…living in the mountains and giving up the green hills of the Shire. He didn’t want to have to leave his home but…in the end, Bag End was uninhabitable and so it seemed that leaving would probably be the best choice. But was he simply picking the easier option over the more difficult one of attempting to rebuild and restart their life in the Shire? Though deciding to let go of the place Bilbo had called home his entire life wasn’t exactly effortless either.

And then there was Thorin.

Thorin had admitted he loved him, which was terrifying and wonderful all at once.

Even though they’d only gotten to know each other over the past few months Bilbo felt as if they’d known each other for much longer. It was almost as if Thorin coming around for dinner was now some long-standing tradition that they’d had for years.

Bilbo hadn’t considered what his feelings toward Thorin were - or perhaps it was that he didn’t want to think about it. He had known the dwarf would be returning to the Blue Mountains after the dragons had been taken care of and it would have been foolish to think they could be anything more than good friends.

He hadn’t seen or spoken to the dwarf in a few days, which was a little disheartening. Kíli had stopped by once or twice to check on them and relay messages from Thorin. He explained Thorin was busy dealing with the aftermath of the night the dragon’s nest was cleared and would stop by when he could. Bilbo asked when that would be and Kíli only gave him a shrug in response.

Somewhere along the way Bilbo had decided he _did_ want to travel to the Blue Mountains with Thorin. His curiosity was beginning to get the better of him and he wanted to know what a life outside the Shire could be like.

Yet the choice was not his alone to make. Frodo still had to be consulted and if he were against it, Bilbo’s choice would be made.

Since losing their home, Frodo had stayed quiet—much more quiet than usual. His silence rivaled the time just after he had lost his parents and Bilbo knew the young hobbit was vulnerable.

He was terrified of the possible repercussions if he asked Frodo to leave the Shire just after this attack. Would he be scared? Would he hate the idea? Could he possibly be excited—like Bilbo—by the thought of leaving with the dwarves they’d gotten to know over the span of a few months?

Bilbo knew he’d have to bring up the topic and quickly. The dwarves would want to leave for home eventually and he needed to give Thorin his answer sooner rather than later.

He’d decided to bring it up during one of their meals: hobbits were most comfortable and happiest while eating. Even now Frodo seemed quite content while he ate one of the meals the Green Dragon provided.

They sat in a cozy corner booth in the buzzing pub, finishing up their dinner for the night, when Bilbo finally found the courage to bring the subject up.

“Frodo, I need to talk to you,” Bilbo sighed as he watched his young nephew push the last of his food around. The boy frowned and put down his spoon, sensing Bilbo’s serious tone.

“What is it?” Frodo asked, cautiously.

“It’s…about our home,” Bilbo started with a hesitant look on his face. When Frodo didn’t respond Bilbo continued. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to rebuild.”

Frodo’s brows furrowed and his bottom lip quivered and Bilbo recognized the signs that Frodo was about to start crying. His heart constricted and hated that they had to make this decision.

“What do you mean?” Frodo questioned, his voice wavering.

“Come here.” Bilbo motioned for him to sit closer and Frodo scooted closer while Bilbo put an arm around his small shoulders. “I know how terrible and upsetting that must sound.”

“B-But, you told me Mister Thorin said he could fix it! You said Kíli and Fíli promised they would stay and help!” Frodo disputed, a few tears dripping down his cheeks.

“I know, but Mister Thorin looked at it again carefully the other day and…” Bilbo shook his head gently. “He’s not so sure.”

“He can try!” Frodo argued. “It’ll be okay!”

“Frodo…” Bilbo sighed. “Listen to me,” Bilbo started. “Mister Thorin has offered for us to come and live with him and Fíli and Kíli in the mountains.”

“But…” Frodo’s blue eyes clouded with confusion as he processed the information. “We’re moving?” Frodo realized quietly.

“Well, only if you agree,” Bilbo explained in a fair tone. “I don’t want to take you out of the Shire if you don’t want to go, but…” Bilbo trailed off. “It would be safer with them…and we’d have a home. If we stay here who knows how long it would take for Bag-End to be livable again.”

Frodo breathed in deeply and considered what Bilbo was saying, before he hummed thoughtfully.

“What do you want to do, Uncle Bilbo?” Frodo finally asked, looking up at Bilbo.

“I…I don’t know,” Bilbo admitted. Even though he thought he was fairly sure he wanted to travel back with the dwarves, seeing Frodo’s anxiety about the situation made him reconsider. “I honestly don’t know what I want.”

“But you really like Mister Thorin,” Frodo realized. “So you should want to go back with them, shouldn’t you?”

Bilbo blushed a bit at Frodo’s observation. Even his young nephew was perceptive enough to see whatever was between him and Thorin.

“Well, yes.” Bilbo nodded. “I like Mister Thorin very much. But I do love the Shire and I don’t want you to be unhappy,” he went on to explain. Frodo remained quiet. “You don’t have to decide right now,” Bilbo finally told his nephew. He’d had several days to sit on his decision and so it would be unfair to push Frodo into a decision right at that moment. “Just think about it,” Bilbo pleaded, returning to the last of his dinner.

“If we go back can Fíli and Kíli train me to fight like them?” Frodo asked as he continued to weigh his options. Bilbo shot his young nephew an exasperated look, but he couldn’t help but give him a small smirk as well.

“I think that’s something we’d have to discuss,” Bilbo decided.

“But if I knew how to fight dragons I could have saved our home,” Frodo protested with a sad sigh.

“Frodo,” Bilbo exhaled. “Just because you learn the skills doesn’t mean you’ll be invincible, please remember that. Not even Thorin could have prevented that dragon from destroying our home.”

“But he did come save us,” Frodo argued with a shrug.

“That he did,” Bilbo nodded, shuddering to think what would have happened if Thorin had not come to pull them out of the burning hill.

“I think we should go back with Mister Thorin and Fíli and Kíli,” Frodo admitted quietly.

“Really?” Bilbo asked, fully expecting Frodo to take a bit of time to think it through.

“If you think it’s a good idea,” Frodo explained. Bilbo bit his lip, pensively.

“I…I think it’s a good idea.” Bilbo tried to sound as confident as he could, but his voice faltered a bit. If Frodo had noticed he didn’t let on.

“Then I think we should move to the Blue Mountains,” Frodo decided. Suddenly it felt as if a weight had lifted from Bilbo’s shoulders, but it was soon replaced with a different weight. He’d have to prepare quickly for their move. Inform neighbors and family, pack what they had left and deal with what remained of Bag-End.

“I’m…I’m glad to hear that.” Bilbo smiled, already feeling exhausted by the thought of actually beginning to plan to move to the mountains with the dwarves.

**x**

Thorin finally visited the Green Dragon much later that evening. Frodo had already fallen asleep in their bed and Bilbo and Thorin were left talking quietly by the fireplace. They stood a little closer than friendly social circumstances dictated and it made Bilbo feel a tad more confident about what was most likely about to be discussed.

“Many of the dwarves left today,” Thorin told Bilbo. “That’s why I had a little extra time to come see you finally.” Thorin looked truly upset he had not been able to come visit. Bilbo nodded, realizing that of course, the dwarves were heading home. The dragons were gone and the Shire was beginning to return to normal. “I _am_ sorry I haven’t had time to before this and that it had to be so late. Time got away from me, regardless of how many dwarves are left.” Thorin gave an apologetic smile to the hobbit.

“It’s all right. I understand,” Bilbo nodded, his fingers beginning to fidget nervously. Thorin swallowed loudly before clearing his throat.

“Have you had a chance to give any more thought to my…offer?” Thorin questioned, glancing over to Frodo in the bed.

“I actually have,” Bilbo responded quietly. “I had to talk to Frodo about it, you know…”

“And?” Thorin asked anxiously in barely over a whisper, trying to keep himself from looking too anxious about Bilbo’s answer.

“Frodo said he would be okay moving to Ered Luin,” Bilbo told him with a smile. “So I think that means…well, we want to go back with you.” A relieved smile spread over Thorin’s usually stern looking face. He remained speechless for a moment, staring at Bilbo as if he’d misheard.

“Th-That’s great news,” Thorin stammered. “I’m…I’m so happy that’s your final decision.”

“Yes, well…” Bilbo swallowed, gathering his nerves. “As for…the other part of your p-proposal…” Bilbo stuttered staring down at his hands. “I-I think, well…I think I love you too,” Bilbo admitted. “It feels right…you know, b-being with you. And Frodo likes you, that’s got to count for something…so I think I really would like to…erm…have a life together or however you put it.”

Thorin reached for Bilbo’s fidgeting hands, stilling them and making the hobbit look up into the dwarf’s eyes. Thorin suddenly wrapped his arms around the hobbit and embraced him. Bilbo melted into the hug as he felt Thorin’s hand come up and cradle the back of his head, his thick fingers lacing their way through Bilbo’s curls.

“You just made me the happiest I’ve felt in years.” Thorin chuckled quietly into the hobbit’s ear and Bilbo blushed.

“R-Really?” Bilbo asked as Thorin loosened his grip and pulled back before resting his forehead against Bilbo’s, their noses lightly brushing against one another’s. Bilbo could feel his face heating up in a bright blush as he felt Thorin’s warm breath against his lips.

“Since the birth of my nephews,” Thorin admitted.

“Don’t—” Bilbo started, refusing to believe his stumbling admission induced an emotional response that rivaled the birth of Thorin’s nephews.

“Truly,” Thorin sighed closing his eyes, his forehead still resting against Bilbo’s and tears prickled behind the hobbit’s eyes. “And you are going to continue to make me very, _very_ happy, Bilbo Baggins.”

Bilbo nervously laughed as Thorin hesitantly tilted his head and Bilbo stood on his tiptoes to close the space between their lips. He reached up and wrapped his arms around the dwarf’s neck, deepening the kiss for a moment before they both parted. Bilbo fell back on his heels and blinked up at the dwarf in hazy contentedness.

“I think I’m really pleased with my decision,” Bilbo whispered in a breathy voice.

“Good,” Thorin smiled before pulling away and cupping Bilbo’s face in his hands and kissing the top of Bilbo’s forehead and giving Bilbo the gentlest look that the hobbit had ever seen the dwarf give. “I didn’t think you’d ever agree or…or even really consider. You love the Shire. That much I can tell.”

“I do, but with Bag-End as damaged as it is…well, and—and well, I suppose I’d miss you terribly.” Bilbo smiled teasingly, reaching up to take one of Thorin’s hands that was still cupping his cheek. “In all seriousness, it’d be lovely to have a life with you.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Thorin hummed as both of his hands went to find Bilbo’s once again. “We’ll stay as long as you need to get everything sorted and packed.” Thorin brought the hobbit’s hand up to his lips and pressed a bristly kiss to his knuckles.

“Well, the good thing is I won’t have much to pack. But Bag-End will need dealing with before we leave.” Bilbo sighed with a small smile as Thorin lowered his hand once again.

“We’ll help you with all of that. Whatever you need, we’ll see to it that it’s done,” Thorin promised, squeezing the hobbit’s hands.

“Thank you.” Bilbo smiled, before letting go of Thorin’s hands and wrapping his arms around the dwarf’s middle. He buried his face in Thorin’s shoulder. “Thank you,” Bilbo breathed and they stood holding each other for a few quiet moments. “I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

“Something tells me you would have been all right,” Thorin refuted, modestly. Bilbo pulled back and gave him a mockingly scandalized look.

“No we most certainly would not have!” Bilbo argued, shaking his head. “We wouldn’t have even made it out of the hill without you. I owe you both my life and Frodo’s,” Bilbo finished solemnly.

“Bilbo…” Thorin sighed quietly.

“I’m serious, thank you. For that, for offering for us to come live with you…” Bilbo trailed off. “For everything.”

“My sister will probably be upset with us for moving too fast,” Thorin realized suddenly.

“Do you think we are?” Bilbo asked softly and Thorin gave a small shrug.

“We might be,” Thorin admitted.

“What if we get to the Blue Mountains and we realize…” Bilbo trailed off. _That we don’t work? That we don’t love each other? That living together is completely different than having dinner together?_ He didn’t know how to finish the sentence but Thorin seemed to understand.

“Then we’ll address that if it comes,” Thorin decided. “Now, you should probably get some rest,” Thorin finally told the hobbit, gently running a thumb over Bilbo’s cheek.

“I don’t want to. I want you to tell me a little bit more about my new home, since you’ve somehow convinced me to come live in a place I hardly know anything about,” Bilbo protested. He didn’t want Thorin to leave just yet.

“Oh, right.” Thorin nodded. “There’s not much to tell,” Thorin explained. “We live a fairly modest life. And you already know I’m a blacksmith…I live with my sister and my nephews…b-but I suppose we could get our own home.” Thorin tried to come up with any details he could tell Bilbo about. “I never really…considered I’d have a family outside of my sister and nephews.” Thorin smiled broadly and Bilbo couldn’t help but return the smile. “So I’m truly honored you’ve allowed me this opportunity.”

“And I didn’t think I’d have anyone to help me raise Frodo…not that I minded being by myself. Frodo really isn’t that much of a burden. But I always felt it wasn’t completely fair to deprive Frodo of two parents.” Bilbo shrugged. “And now he’ll have not only me but you as well…assuming this all works out.” Bilbo gave an unsure smile. Thorin’s gaze shifted over to Frodo’s small sleeping form. “And he’ll be happy with having you,” Bilbo continued quietly watching Thorin’s face.

“You think so?” Thorin turned back to the hobbit.

“Of course.” Bilbo nodded. “He’s always asking when you’re coming to see us next.”

Thorin hummed happily.

“Well, now that it’s official…you should finally meet some of the dwarves other than my nephews. Though they’ve been anxious to hear your response as well.” Thorin smiled. “A few of them volunteered to stay behind to help in case you decided to come back with us,” Thorin explained.

“Oh, that was very kind of them.” Bilbo suddenly began to feel very nervous.

“Will it be all right if I bring them to the Green Dragon to introduce you to them tomorrow night?” Thorin asked, sensing Bilbo’s hesitation.

“We were already talking about doing something to introduce them to me before…” Bilbo trailed off. “Well, before you cleared the nest anyway. So I have no qualms with that.” Thorin gave a sad, sympathetic look to the hobbit.

They spent a little more time talking before Thorin decided he should return to what little camp was left. Bilbo walked him to the door and bid him goodnight, Thorin leaning down for a quick goodnight kiss.

“O-Oh.” Bilbo smiled awkwardly into the kiss and Thorin gave a shy smile in return as they parted.

“Okay?” Thorin asked nervously.

“I’m not used to it, is all.” Bilbo shrugged.

“Me neither,” Thorin frowned. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s nice.” Bilbo gave an exasperated smile. “What time should I expect you tomorrow?”

“Dinner time,” Thorin told him. “I’ll come and retrieve you.” Bilbo nodded in agreement and Thorin bowed his head. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Thorin.”

**x**

The next day Bilbo decided to get a head start on preparing to leave. He got Frodo dressed in the minimal clothes they still had left and Bilbo sighed. They still didn’t have much. The day he and Thorin had visited Bag-End, Bilbo ended up surrendering the clothing they’d recovered to Bell Gamgee, who was more than eager to help them in anyway possible. She’d agreed to repair and clean the clothes the best she could.

One of their errands was to stop by and see if Bell had finished her task or pick up anything that had been done. And perhaps tell the family that they’d decided to pack up and leave the Shire. Bilbo wasn’t quite looking forward to that.

But first was to see about the deed to Bag-End and have paperwork drawn up to relinquish ownership of the property. Even though Bag-End was destroyed it still needed to be dealt with. Since it was no longer livable, he doubted that Lobelia Sackville-Baggins would want his residence anymore. He decided he would sign over what was left to the Gamgee’s. Bilbo quite hoped that once things began to grow again Hamfast could still tend the gardens if he wished.

He wasn’t quite sure what else to do with the destroyed home. And that way if they ever did come back, Bilbo would know it had been in safe hands.

After that Bilbo went about finding some stationary and a nice quill and ink. He’d need to notify the other members of his family that they would be moving out of the Shire and going to live in Ered Luin after the unfortunate loss of their home to the dragons. Lots of promises to come visit would be made and Bilbo hoped that would be enough.

Finally, as the afternoon dragged on into the later hours, Bilbo and Frodo finally arrived at the Gamgee’s. It had been a little rough on Frodo to see the charred remains of their home just up the hill. Before going up to knock on the Gamgee’s door, Bilbo knelt beside his nephew.

“Would you like to go in and see it?” Bilbo asked gently. Frodo shook his head before turning and burying his face into the crook of Bilbo’s neck. “That’s all right,” Bilbo sighed, holding his nephew tight. “Come on,” Bilbo pulled away, “let’s go visit Samwise and see how his family is doing.” Frodo seemed okay about that proposition and pulled away completely, drying his eyes.

Hamfast was the one to open the door and smiled softly at his neighbors.

“Bilbo, Frodo!” he greeted them. “Please come in. Bell was going to have me pop down to the Green Dragon this evening to give you the things she’d repaired.” They were greeted by a few of Sam’s older siblings and Frodo gave them a hesitant smile before Sam appeared.

“Mister Frodo!” Sam squeaked throwing himself at the other young hobbit. “You’re okay!”

“Sam!” Frodo laughed wrapping his arms around his friend. Bilbo gave a relieved sigh upon hearing Frodo laugh again. He smiled at Sam’s sweet quirk of calling Frodo ‘Mister’ which only started when he was told to address Bilbo as ‘Mister’ and Sam just assumed it applied to Frodo as well, even after assuring Sam it was okay to just call Frodo by his name without the prefix.

“I was so worried for you and Mister Bilbo!” Sam explained as he pulled away. “I saw how bad your home is and a dwarf came and told us you were okay but I was still worried and Mum and Dad said you were okay but I wanted to see for myself but they said we shouldn’t bother you and—”

“Sam!” Frodo smiled again. “I’m fine!” Frodo assured him. “It’s okay!” Sam wrapped his arms around his friend once again.

“Come in, I was just about to start afternoon tea.” Bell finally appeared, urging them to come further into their home.

“Oh, I’d hate to impose.” Bilbo hadn’t realized what time it was.

“Nonsense, come in. It’s the least we can do,” Bell insisted. Frodo hurried off with Sam and Bilbo felt a heavy weight settle in his stomach remembering they’d be leaving the Shire and their friends behind very soon.

“Well, I thank you very much.” Bilbo nodded, gratefully. He came in and sat at their dining room table as Bell prepared tea, and two of Sam’s elder sisters joined them. Bilbo noticed parts of their house were still being repaired from the dragon attack but luckily they’d gotten out of it a great deal better than Bag-End did.

“So what is the plan to begin rebuilding Bag-End?” Hamfast asked conversationally. “I’d be more than happy to help.”

“Oh, well, thank you Hamfast.” Bilbo nodded politely. “But…it won’t be necessary.” Those words seemed to cause the entire room to freeze.

“What do you mean, Bilbo?” Bell asked, anxiously.

“Well, Frodo and I…we’re planning on moving back with the dwarves,” Bilbo explained. The Gamgee’s around the table fell silent.

“You are? Why?” the Gamgee’s eldest daughter, Daisy, asked.

“Well, yes.” Bilbo nodded hesitantly. “You know the dwarf I’ve been…hosting in the evenings?”

“The one that was with you the other day after the attack?” Bell interjected and Bilbo nodded.

“Yes, that’s the one. He’s offered for us to come back to live with him instead of trying to rebuild…and I decided to take him up on it. I asked Frodo and he seems to be all right with it,” Bilbo continued.

“You don’t have to move out of the Shire just because Bag-End has been badly damaged,” Hamfest pleaded.

“But I think I really want to. I…I think I’m in love?” Bilbo ended with a questioning tone and an incredulous laugh as he stared down at his cup of tea, his face burning in a blush. “He’s terribly endearing even though he’s a little rough around the edges and he’s incredibly blunt but he means well and he loves Frodo and Frodo loves him…not to mention he’s a terrible cook…it’s hilarious to watch him make a fool of himself in the kitchen, but you can’t tell him I said that.” Bilbo stared down at his teacup, a little embarrassed by his rambling. The confession stunned the family into silence once again. “I…really don’t know what I’m doing,” Bilbo admitted quietly.

“Just so we’re clear…he’s not pressuring you into this, is he?” Bell asked a little anxiously.

“No!” Bilbo jumped. “No, nothing of the sort! He’s been nothing but understanding and, to be honest, doubtful that I would agree…and I have agreed, I just don’t know if it’s the best decision or not…but I think it is. Oh, I just don’t know,” Bilbo babbled.

“Well if you love him I think you should go,” the other Gamgee daughter, May, offered. Bilbo chuckled shyly.

“Do you think you’ve given it enough thought?” Hamfast asked.

“Yes…well, I mean it’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about, really,” Bilbo admitted.

“As long as you’ve thought it through…I think it sounds terribly romantic,” Daisy interjected and Bilbo blushed harder at the adolescent hobbit girls sighing over him as if he were the center of some romance-laden fairytale.

“Well, Daisy is right, as long as you’ve thought it through,” Bell nodded. “But…”

“Can’t be said that we won’t miss you terribly though,” Hamfast sighed despondently and Bell nodded in solemn agreement.

“We’ll be back to visit!” Bilbo assured them. “The Blue Mountains are only something like a week away, I believe? I’m not letting him get away with taking me to the Blue Mountains never to be heard from again.” Bilbo chuckled. “At least for Sam and Frodo’s sake, if nothing else.”

“Well, that seems fair,” Hamfast smiled at his neighbor. “As long as you’re happy.”

“Which brings me to another point.” Bilbo went to fish a bundle of parchment out of his basket and brought it out onto the table.

“The deed for Bag-End.” Bilbo gestured. “I think your family should have it.”

“Bilbo!” Bell gasped, staring at the parchment as if it were about to combust and destroy her kitchen.

“Are you sure about this, lad?” Hamfast asked.

“It’s another thing I’ve thought through quite a bit. There isn’t much to be done with it and the Sackville-Bagginses won’t want any claim to it now that it’s destroyed. I just want to know it’s safe even though it’s uninhabitable. I thought perhaps you could work in the gardens once things grow back?” Bilbo suggested. “I don’t know. Just look after it for me…for now. In case we do end up coming back, I’ll know it’s in good hands.” Hamfast tentatively reached for it and pulled it closer to him.

“Of course, Bilbo.” Hamfast nodded. “We’d be honored to.”

“Well, good.” Bilbo gave a relieved sigh.

“We’ll have to have you and your dwarf over before you leave,” Bell insisted and Bilbo blushed for what had to be the hundredth time that afternoon. His face had to be as red as a cherry by this point.

“Yes, I’d like that…I’d really appreciate that.” Bilbo nodded. They chatted a little bit more before Bell jumped up.

“Before I forget let me get you the clothes I repaired,” Bell called before disappearing.

Quick enough, she reappeared with a stack of clothing. Bilbo frowned, not remembering that he’d given Bell that much to repair.

“I’ve got all your things cleaned and repaired as best as I could and I’m sending you with some old clothes of Hamfast’s and Sam’s since I know you haven’t been left with a whole lot.”

“Oh, Bell, you don’t have to…” Bilbo smiled gratefully at her.

“Nonsense.” Bell shook her head. “You need something more than a few pairs of shirts and trousers especially if you’re going to be traveling all the way back to the Blue Mountains.”

“Well, thank you…truly.” Bilbo sighed pulling the clothes closer to him. “It was getting tiring wearing the same soot-stained mess that we got out in.” Bilbo gestured to his own clothes.

“Oh, and young Frodo’s stuffed rabbit,” Bell provided the toy out of the pocket of her apron. “It was…really terribly damaged but I did my best. I had to replace quite a bit of it but it’s…” she trailed off. Bilbo smiled sadly as he accepted the small rabbit. There were obvious patches on it and it felt as if it had been re-stuffed.

“Bell, you are magnificent.” Bilbo smiled, placing the rabbit on the stack of clothes. “We should probably be heading home…er, well, you know…” Bilbo awkwardly caught himself referring to the Green Dragon as home, though it was ‘home’ for the time being. “Thorin…my, er, dwarf,” Bilbo laughed nervously, busying himself with situating the basket in front of him, “is introducing us to a few of the dwarves who stayed behind to help us move at dinner tonight. So we have to get back for that.”

“Good luck,” Bell smiled warmly.

“Thank you…something tells me I’ll need it,” Bilbo shrugged with a nod.

Soon Daisy was sent to collect Sam and Frodo and Bell helped Bilbo pack the clothes into his basket. When Frodo made his appearance, Bilbo called him over.

“I have something for you.” Bilbo reached back to his basket and retrieved the stuffed animal. “Missus Gamgee repaired him for you.” Frodo stared with wide eyes at his toy and back up to Bilbo as his small fingers tentatively reached out for it. He’d clearly written off ever seeing his beloved comfort toy again and to have it back seemed like a miracle. “Why don’t you say thank you?”

“Oh, it was really no—” Bell started before Frodo came around and wrapped his arms around her middle. “Oh.”

“Thank you very much, Missus Gamgee,” Frodo exclaimed, burying his face in her stomach and holding back tears.

“You are very welcome,” Bell smiled down as Frodo pulled away and wiped his eyes, clinging to the rabbit. “Just promise me you’ll take care of him.” Frodo nodded eagerly, looking as if he’d never part from it again.

They said goodbye to their neighbors, Frodo giving one last hug to Sam before they turned and headed back to the Green Dragon. Frodo seemed in a much better mood and Bilbo wasn’t sure if it was because of the afternoon spent with Sam or the return of his toy or both, but he was glad to see Frodo smiling again.

When they returned, Bilbo dressed himself and Frodo in the best looking clothes from the pile they’d received from Bell. They happened to be the hand-me-downs since they hadn’t just been put through hell and repaired.

Bilbo sighed as he picked at Frodo’s outfit, which was a little odd fitting on him. He was immensely grateful for the donation, but Bilbo wished he been able to salvage at least one or two of his nice silk vests or a scarf or two. He wanted to look his best to meet the dwarves to make the best first impression possible.

“Will Fíli and Kíli be there tonight?” Frodo asked, absentmindedly playing with his stuffed rabbit’s ears as Bilbo attempted to comb through Frodo’s curls.

“I’m sure they will be,” Bilbo told him. “I think Mister Thorin said something about them being here tonight.”

“Wait, did you already tell Mister Thorin that we’re going to go home with him?” Frodo asked.

“I did, last night.” Bilbo nodded. “He’s very excited to have us.”

“He came over last night?” Frodo asked. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because you needed your rest,” Bilbo chastised softly. “We’ll have plenty of time with Mister Thorin after this, remember.”

“So…if we’re going to live with Mister Thorin will he be like my uncle too?” Frodo asked curiously. Bilbo’s heart skipped a beat smiling faintly at his nephew.

“Well I suppose he would, yes.” Bilbo smiled bashfully, continuing to busy himself with Frodo’s hair even though he’d really finished fussing with it and Frodo’s hair no longer really needed the extra attention.

As if on cue there was a knock at the door. Frodo bounced up and ran to the door before Bilbo could get up. He pulled the door open and smiled broadly at the dwarf.

“Uncle Thorin!” Frodo called.

“What’s this? _Uncle_ Thorin?” Thorin chuckled, smiling sweetly down at Frodo.

“He’s decided you’ll be Uncle Thorin now that we’ll be moving back with you.” Bilbo chuckled, rising from the bed.

“Is that okay?” Frodo asked, nervously fidgeting with the rabbit in his hands.

“Of course it’s okay,” Thorin assured the young hobbit. “I’m very pleased, actually.” Frodo smiled coyly. “What’s this?” Thorin asked kneeling down and gently reaching a hand out gesturing at the rabbit. After the past few hours of Frodo refusing to let it go and strangling it half to death he gladly handed it over to Thorin and Bilbo couldn’t help but smile.

“Missus Gamgee fixed it for me! I thought it burned with the rest of our home,” Frodo explained proudly.

“Thorin’s the one who found it you know,” Bilbo quickly clarified as he made some last minute adjustments to his own outfit. Frodo turned back to Thorin with an awed look on his face.

“Thank you,” Frodo breathed, wrap his arms around the dwarf’s neck. Thorin yelped and lost his balance, falling down on his backside and pulling Frodo down on top of him. Bilbo’s face cracked into a large grin and Thorin shot him an accusatory look while Bilbo tried to remain innocent. “Oops,” Frodo laughed bashfully as he tried to sit up. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Thorin assured the boy as he handed the rabbit back. “I’m glad I could find your toy for you.”

“Are Fíli and Kíli here?” Frodo questioned while Thorin pulled himself up.

“They are,” Thorin smiled. “Are you ready?” Thorin turned towards Bilbo.

“Yes, I’m quite ready.” Bilbo took Thorin’s proffered hand. They made their way out to the bustling pub and Thorin led them over to the table where the dwarves were sitting.

The dwarves spotted them and called over to Thorin, waving at them. Frodo spotted Fíli and Kíli and smiled broadly.

A bald dwarf with tattoos on his head and a bushy brown mustache and beard stood to greet them.

“At last!” he cried. “ _This_ is the hobbit!”

“Erm, hello.” Bilbo greeted them all anxiously. He swallowed nervously as the dwarves surrounding the table looked up with curious gazes toward the hobbits.

“Bilbo, this is Dwalin,” Thorin introduced them.

“Oh, yes! Dwalin, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Bilbo recognized the name.

“Only good things I hope. And who’s this wee thing?” Dwalin smiled down at Frodo. Frodo pulled Bilbo and Thorin in front of him to hide from the unfamiliar dwarves hovering over him.

“This is Frodo.” Bilbo patted Frodo’s curly hair. “He’s my nephew and not very good around…people.” Bilbo explained. He’d started to say ‘dwarves’ but he didn’t want to offend the party of dwarves in front of him.

Bilbo was then introduced to Bofur, a dwarf with a kind face and a floppy hat, then Bifur—who was Bofur’s cousin—a peculiar dwarf who only spoke the dwarfs’ language and had an orc axe protruding from his head. Lastly was Nori - his hair was the most elaborate of the dwarves’ and he was a dwarf who looked like someone you wouldn’t want to cross. Of course, Bilbo wouldn’t want to cross any of these dwarves, but Nori especially. He had knives and daggers sheathed on various visible parts of his garb and Bilbo could only guess at what else the dwarf was hiding. Dwalin made a snide comment about watching your wallet around Nori, who immediately protested.

“I’m not a thief anymore!” Nori exclaimed. “I’ve turned over a new leaf with this dragon business!”

“ _New leaf,”_ Dwalin scoffed. “You pick-pocketed me this afternoon! Don’t think I didn’t notice, ‘cause I did!”

Bilbo sat down in an unoccupied chair at the table; Frodo sat next to him and Thorin next to Frodo. Across from them were Nori, Fili, and Kili, while Bofur and Dwalin sat at the ends of the table. A chair from another table had been pulled up between Bofur and Kíli for Bifur to sit.

Kíli, who sat directly across from Bilbo, slid him a tankard of ale and pushed a large plate of food towards both Frodo and Bilbo.

“Thank you, Kíli.” Bilbo smiled gratefully as Frodo picked up a slice of bread and cheese.

“How are you doing?” Kíli asked quietly. Thorin was now immersed with Dwalin and Nori’s loud argument that was turning into a confrontation. _Are all dwarves like this?_ Bilbo thought to himself.

“We’re doing all right, actually.” Bilbo shrugged. There was still a twinge of sadness to his voice but he cleared his throat and took a sip of the ale. “Well, it’s been rough still…but I think we’re both excited to be going back to the Blue Mountains with you.”

Kíli’s expression broke into a wide grin.

“Fíli and I are excited for you to come home with us.” Kíli nodded looking to Frodo. The young hobbit shyly smiled back.

“And we heard about you and our uncle,” Fíli addressed Bilbo in a quiet singsong voice.

“Oh yes, Thorin came back to camp the last night and _would not shut up_ about you.” Kíli grinned. Bilbo blushed heavily as he felt Thorin’s arm stretch out across the back of the chairs behind his head and the dwarf’s fingers brush against the back of his neck.

“Yes, well…” Bilbo coughed nervously, feeling his face flush. Before either Fíli or Kíli could pry any more information out of the hobbit, Bofur interrupted.

“Oh, speaking of you coming back with us, Mister Baggins…” Bofur started and Bilbo turned his attention to the other dwarf.

“O-Oh, just Bilbo is fine, please,” Bilbo quickly corrected, glad for the change of topic.

“All right then, Bilbo.” Bofur nodded with a pleasant smile. “I just wanted to say we all know about your situation and what happened to your home and we’re all very sorry for your loss.”

“Oh, thank you.” Bilbo gave a polite smile. “But I suppose everything happens for a reason.” Bilbo shrugged and Thorin finally turned his attention away from Dwalin and Nori, who were beginning to calm down. Bilbo felt him give a soft squeeze to his shoulder.

Bilbo spent the rest of the evening listening to the dwarves talk about what they did in the Blue Mountains.

He learned that Bifur was a toy maker, which excited Frodo greatly. From out of his coat, the dwarf pulled a small toy with moving parts and gears and handed it to Frodo with a line of the dwarvish language.

“Oh, he says it’s a gift for young master Frodo,” Bofur quickly translated. Frodo put his rabbit, that he was still anxiously gripping, down on his lap and accepted the toy. He uncertainly turned it over in his hand as a small smile appeared on his face as he figured out how to make the gears on the toy work.

“That’s very kind of you,” Bilbo smiled at the dwarf. “How do you say thank you in your language?” Bofur hesitated for a moment.

“ _Âkminrûk zu_ ,” Thorin quickly supplied. Bilbo attempted to repeat the phrase and Bofur gave a tentative laugh as his cousin gave the hobbit a supportive smile. “We’ll work on pronunciation,” Thorin chuckled.

“So what do you do, Bofur?” Bilbo asked curiously.

“I’m a miner,” Bofur explained. “Not real exciting I suppose, which is probably the reason I decided to come along on this little excursion. It’s nice to get out of the mines occasionally and go kill some dragons!” Bofur declared as if it were a sport. Bilbo’s stomach churned a bit.

“He only came ‘cause he likes the food an’ ale here.” Nori chimed in. “He’s been here at the inn the entire time. Hardly done any work and certainly never killed a dragon.”

“Are you sure you’re not confusing him with you?” Dwalin frowned at Nori.

“I was only here after I finished my shifts!” Nori defended himself and Bilbo feared they were about to get into it again. “And I helped take down that Nadder a few weeks ago! Bofur skived off a few of his own shifts because he was here drinking the night away!”

“I did not!” Bofur protested.

The two dwarves continued bickering and Bilbo sighed, looking uncomfortable, and Thorin seemed to sense the atmosphere was a little too much for Bilbo to handle.

“Enough,” Thorin snapped at the dwarves, who quieted immediately.

Bilbo still decided to excuse himself and he slipped out the front of the inn. Frodo was fine sitting with Thorin for the time being and he needed a moment to himself.

He sat down on a bench outside the inn and pulled out his pipe, fumbling with the pipe weed and matches before lighting the pipe. He was thankful it had been on him the day they lost their home. However, he had used nearly the last of what was in his tobacco pouch and sighed, wondering if the dwarves had pipe weed as fine as what they had in the Shire. Bilbo took a puff before closing his eyes against the cool night air. It was refreshing to sit in near silence after the evening with the rowdy dwarves.

What on earth was he thinking, taking Frodo from the Shire to move to the mountains with these dwarves? He was mad. He was completely mad. Bilbo began to wonder how Thorin would react if he was truly beginning to get cold feet. He couldn’t be upset with the hobbit because it just seemed as if they had rushed into the the whole thing much too quickly. It was a major life-changing decision based on a dwarf he’d known for hardly two months. He should be planning how to continue their life in the Shire and instead he was planning on packing up and leaving with a dwarf he hadn’t even known more than a season!

And he’d never spent more than an evening at a time with Thorin. Living together would be a completely different beast altogether.

He’d been so deep in thought he hadn’t heard the dwarf-in-question exiting the inn and making his way over to the bench he was sitting on.

“Bilbo?” Thorin called quietly.

“O-Oh, Thorin.” Bilbo sat up and coughed a bit, failing to meet Thorin’s eyes as if his thoughts would be betrayed with one simple glance. “Is Frodo…?” Bilbo trailed off busying himself with studying his fingers.

“Yes, he’s sitting with Kíli,” Thorin seemed to pick up what Bilbo had meant. “Are _you_ all right?” Thorin asked quietly as he took a seat next to Bilbo.

“Just fine,” Bilbo quickly told him. “I just…needed a moment,” Bilbo explained sheepishly.

“It’s okay to admit if we’re a little overwhelming.” Thorin chuckled softly. “I wasn’t expecting you to warm up to them immediately.”

“Well, I’m just…not used to their sort of company,” Bilbo shrugged. “But then again I suppose I’m a bit used to my quiet evenings at home.”

Thorin hummed, hesitantly bringing his arm around Bilbo’s shoulders and Bilbo leaned against Thorin, his doubts beginning to disperse a bit. Peaceful moments like this made Bilbo want to believe everything would work out just fine.

“Things aren’t always like this,” Thorin told him, watching as the hobbit blew some smoke rings into the air. “They’re just a bit excited with the dragons and you coming back with us.”

“I know,” Bilbo sighed. They sat there in silence for a little while and Bilbo was grateful for the quiet time alone with Thorin outside the inn.

“I should return, else they all come to find us,” Thorin murmured. “Come join us when you’re ready.” Thorin pressed a kiss to Bilbo’s temple before standing up. Bilbo sighed, watching Thorin return to the inn. He finished smoking his pipe and tapped out the ashen remains before tucking it safely away and turning back towards the inn.

Bilbo made his way back to the table and spotted Frodo occupying Kíli’s lap and he smiled as his nephew waved at him excitedly. The other dwarves turned and looked ashamed as the hobbit rejoined them. Bilbo inwardly groaned, wondering if Thorin had given them a stern talking to about scaring the hobbit off. He hoped that Thorin hadn’t but he didn’t say anything as he slid into the chair next to Thorin. Beneath the table Thorin gently squeezed Bilbo’s thigh and Bilbo shot him a sly look that earned him a bashful smile.

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly and Bilbo was silently glad—if not still a little embarrassed—by Thorin’s apparent intervention. The dwarves spent the rest of the night discussing what makes ale good ale and what was the best food to pair with it, which was a much more agreeable subject to the hobbit. Bilbo contributed his thoughts, eager to move past the now awkward tension between he and the other dwarves. Soon, however, he let the dwarves heatedly discuss the subject without him.

Frodo in the meantime had abandoned Kíli’s lap and curled up with his rabbit in Thorin’s arms, squirming crankily on the dwarf’s lap. Thorin, who had at first looked pleased that Frodo had decided to sit with him, now looked disgruntled and unsure of what to do. Bilbo laughed before offering to take him back to their room.

“I’m getting tired anyway,” Bilbo was almost grateful for the excuse. There was only so much he could take for one evening and he’d passed his limit a while ago.

“Oh,” Thorin nodded as Frodo twisted out of the dwarf’s lap. “I’ll escort you back to your room.”

“It was very nice meeting all of you.” Bilbo bowed his head. The dwarves all clamored a goodbye with promises of ‘see you soon’ as they turned away from the group and made their way back to the rooms. Bilbo gave polite smiles to some of the other tenants they passed. He unlocked their room and Frodo pulled himself inside and onto the bed.

“I hope you had a decent time tonight,” Thorin muttered anxiously as Bilbo turned to bid him goodnight.

“Of course I did, Thorin.” Bilbo nodded. “It was just a little exhausting. For me and for Frodo.” Bilbo looked back to where Frodo was burying under the covers already.

“I understand.” Thorin nodded solemnly. “It probably wasn’t a good idea to…”

“It’s fine, Thorin,” Bilbo assured him and Thorin gave him a hesitant smile.

“I’ll come around tomorrow morning,” Thorin told him. “We can start packing up to leave for Ered Luin.”

“All right,” Bilbo nodded before stifling a yawn.

“That is…if you’re still planning on coming back with us?” Thorin asked timidly.

“Yes, of course we are.” Bilbo sighed exasperatedly. He didn’t want to tell Thorin of the doubts he’d been having earlier that evening. Thorin’s awkward smile from earlier developed into a gentle, relieved smile which in turn made Bilbo smile serenely back at the dwarf.

“S-So,” Thorin stuttered before clearing his throat. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, that’s fine.” Bilbo nodded. “Goodnight, Thorin,” he smiled blearily. Thorin’s large hand came up to cup Bilbo’s soft cheek and he bent down to gently kiss Bilbo’s lips. This kiss was a little less awkward than their past few kisses and Bilbo eventually broke away with a broad smile.

“Goodnight, Bilbo,” Thorin replied with a soft smile. Bilbo sighed as he closed the door behind the dwarf. He turned towards the bed where Frodo was already curled up and drifting off to sleep.

“Come now, Frodo.” Bilbo roused his young nephew. “Don’t go to sleep just yet. Let’s get you ready for bed.” Frodo groaned in protest.

**x**

Within a week what was left of Bag-End was cleared of most of the rubble and debris and, with the Gamgee’s help, they were able to pack the few remaining items they had recovered in a wagon.

Frodo had finally agreed to see the remains of their home and Bilbo could tell it was hard on him. It was the second home he’d had that had been destroyed by dragons and Bilbo couldn’t begin to understand how Frodo was handling it all as well as he was. He could tell Frodo had grown up quite a bit over the year Bilbo had been named his guardian and even more so since the weeks after the destruction of Bag-End.

Thankfully Frodo had Sam to help distract him while they cleared out the home and it broke his heart to know he’d be separating the two. He felt a gentle hand on his lower back and the touch pulled him out of his thoughts.

“All right?” Thorin asked.

“I really don’t know if this is the right decision,” Bilbo quietly admitted. No matter how much he told himself he wanted to do this, that lingering doubt still remained. Thorin stayed silent, not sure what to say to reassure the hobbit. “Frodo really should grow up here in the Shire.”

“If you don’t want to do this you don’t have to,” Thorin softly tried to offered him a way out.

“It’s…It’s not that I don’t want to,” Bilbo sighed. “If it was just about me this would be a bit easier…you know that.”

“You did ask Frodo if he would be okay,” Thorin assured him.

“I feel like he only agreed because it was something I wanted to do.” Bilbo shrugged. He watched as Fíli and Kíli went over to sit with the young hobbits. Frodo looked up with a small smile as Kíli crouched down to talk to them. Bilbo smiled faintly as Sam laughed at something one of the dwarves said.

“It’ll be all right,” Thorin nodded. “If things don’t work out you can always come back,” Thorin suggested quietly.

“Come back to what?” Bilbo asked. “We’d be coming back to a destroyed home. The Blue Mountains really are going to be the best option for us. I should stop doubting myself,” Bilbo snapped as if he were arguing with himself about the issue.

“It’s perfectly all right to doubt your decision,” Thorin attempted to comfort him and Bilbo gave an irritated hum as he watched Dwalin move some debris out of the charred garden.

“We’ll…we’ll have to visit though,” Bilbo finally spoke, turning to Thorin. “You’ll have to come with us…I don’t want to travel back on my own.”

“Of course,” Thorin nodded. “Of course I will, Bilbo,” he promised. “You don’t think I’d let you and Frodo go by yourself, do you?”

Bilbo gave a reluctant smile, turning away from Thorin. Nori emerged from the destroyed front entry of the house with his arms full of ruined items and Bilbo left Thorin’s side to see what the other dwarf had found.

**x**

The evening before their departure the Gamgee’s hosted a dinner to properly say goodbye to their neighbors and officially meet the dwarf that had convinced them to go.

The meal was delicious and they visited well into the evening while Fíli and Kíli entertained the children with stories of their own. As it grew later and later they wound down their conversations and the heavy weight of their departure struck them. The younger children were beginning to fall asleep, though they begged for them to stay a bit longer.

“Frodo we have to get going,” Bilbo finally sighed as Frodo asked to stay longer for the third time.

“We’ve got an early start tomorrow,” Thorin explained to the young hobbit.

“How early is early?” Bilbo asked, dreading the answer.

“I’ll come to retrieve you at dawn,” Thorin replied. “We need to get on the road as early as possible.” Bilbo groaned.

“We really should have left a while ago then,” Bilbo sighed as he stretched. They slowly migrated back to the Gamgee’s front entry way and Thorin helped Bilbo with his cloak and Frodo reluctantly pulled on his own.

“When do you think you’ll visit?” Bell asked as they slowly finished getting ready.

“I’m not sure.” Bilbo shrugged. “Maybe we can come back for Midsummer’s Eve.” Bilbo suggested looking towards Thorin. “You have to see Midsummer’s Eve at some point…it’s spectacular.”

“That would be quite fun,” Hamfast agreed.

“Oh, can we please?” Frodo pleaded with the dwarf.

“I’m sure we’ll work something out,” Thorin assured them before they continued their goodbyes. Bilbo gave Bell a hug and Hamfast a handshake that turned into a hug. Then Hamfast turned to Thorin and gave him a handshake with a pleasant smile.

“Take good care of them,” Hamfast told the dwarf and Thorin nodded.

Frodo and Sam gave each other a long hug and Bilbo’s heart continued to ache for the two boys.

“We’ll come and visit soon,” Bilbo tried to assure them as they pulled apart, both of them looking as if they were holding back tears. They said their final goodbyes before they left and turned down the path towards the Green Dragon. It was a quiet walk and Thorin held Bilbo’s hand comfortingly. Bilbo leaned lightly against Thorin’s side as Frodo reached up to take a hold of Bilbo’s other hand and Bilbo pulled the young hobbit in against his side, draping his arm over Frodo’s shoulder.

Though Bilbo felt sad looking over the peaceful place he’d called home since his birth, a small part of him was brimming with nervous excitement. The prospect of living with Thorin and the thought of exploring the world outside the Shire got his blood pumping. The next day would be the official start of a whole new life


	5. Ered Luin

The dwarves arrived at the Green Dragon as the sun began to rise and Thorin went to retrieve Bilbo and Frodo from their room.  He was greeted with sleepy expressions as they shouldered the last of their few belongings onto their backs.

“Good morning,” Thorin greeted, leaning down and kissing Bilbo’s cheek.  “Good morning, Frodo.” Thorin turned to Frodo.

“Morning,” Frodo mumbled sleepily and the dwarf smiled fondly at the young hobbit. They exited the inn and met the others outside.

The pale dawn light stretched over the green hills and Bilbo realized it was the last morning he’d see in the Shire for quite a while and his heart clenched. Frodo yawned widely and shivered, clutching Bilbo with one tiny hand and his stuffed rabbit with the other.

“Still asleep?” Kíli asked, kneeling down and ruffling Frodo’s hair.  The young hobbit nodded before turning to bury his face into Bilbo’s side. Thorin took the last of their things and secured them in the wagon being led by a pony.

“Can you ride?” Thorin asked as he finished packing away their things and gestured to one of the riderless ponies.

“W-What?” Bilbo asked.  “The pony?”

“Yes, of course.” Thorin nodded as a few of the other dwarves mounted their ponies.

“I can’t ride,” Bilbo chuckled, exasperatedly.

“It’s not difficult, come on.” Thorin offered his hand to help Bilbo onto the pony.

“Can’t we ride in the wagon or something?” Bilbo suggested and Thorin sighed.

“There’s not enough room. I was going to have you ride with Frodo, but—” Thorin trailed off.  “Fíli or Kíli, can you take Frodo?”

“I’ll take him,” Kíli volunteered.  “If that’s all right, Frodo?” Kíli asked. Frodo shrugged and nodded, going over the dwarf who helped him up onto the saddle.

“Well, that’s _fantastic_ but what about me? I still can’t ride.” Bilbo put his hands on his hips. He was a little irritable with the combination of the frosty morning and still being quite sleepy. Bilbo was not in the mood for this.

“You’ll ride with me,” Thorin decided, mounting his pony and offering a hand to the hobbit. Bilbo laughed again.

“You’re joking,” Bilbo groaned.

“Either that or you’re riding on your own,” Thorin told him with an exasperated sigh.  “Your choice.”

“I’ll walk if I have to,” Bilbo decided. “I’ve done my fair share of walking holidays, let’s go.” Bilbo started off and Thorin spurred his pony on to cut him off. “Thorin!” Bilbo spat folding his arms.

“We’re wasting valuable travel time,” Dwalin complained. Bilbo’s face flushed with embarrassed anger. He hated to be a burden to the company of dwarves but there was no way he was going to be stuck on the back of Thorin’s pony the entire journey.

“Bilbo,” Thorin sighed, pleadingly.

“I know I’m going to regret this but...fine. I’ll ride with you,” Bilbo muttered.  In order for the pony to accommodate both Bilbo and Thorin some of the packs already secured to Thorin’s pony had to be moved and distributed between the wagon and the others’ ponies. After a little bit of a struggle the dwarf and hobbit were eventually situated upon the pony together. Bilbo sat behind Thorin clutching to Thorin’s sides and they finally started out. Frodo sat in front of Kíli and he held fast to the pommel on the saddle.

At first it wasn’t so bad, Bilbo thought to himself. He could possibly get used to the travelling if it continued the way it did the first hour or so. But things quickly went downhill after that.

It ended up being a long cold day of travel. They stopped very rarely during the day to eat and rest, much to the hobbits’ dismay. Bilbo thought they should have stopped at least two or three times more…not just for food but also to stop and stretch as well. By the end of the day his back end and legs were incredibly sore. He’d figured it wouldn’t be easy but he didn’t imagine it would be that miserable.

“How many days of travel did you say we had left?” Bilbo groaned as Thorin helped the hobbit off the pony when they’d stopped for the day.

“Another week, two at the most if we run into weather.” Thorin’s gaze turned towards the sky.

“I suppose I signed up for this.” Bilbo shrugged with a resigned sigh.

“Yes you did,” Thorin said with a sympathetic smile.

“Though you did the convincing.” Bilbo frowned at the dwarf. Thorin only responded by leaning down and giving the hobbit a quick peck on the lips before turning and going to help set up camp. Bilbo found a dry spot on the ground and collapsed, attempting to stretch out the cramps in his legs. Frodo came over to sit next to Bilbo.

“How did you fare the last part of the day?” Bilbo asked. Frodo had switched halfway through the day to ride with Fíli. His nephew shrugged.

“Fine, but I’m hungry,” Frodo complained quietly.

“I know, my boy.” Bilbo sighed. “These dwarves aren’t used to our eating schedule.”

“Is it going to be like this when we reach Uncle Thorin’s home?” Frodo asked miserably.

“Not if I can help it,” Bilbo laughed softly. “We’ll get dinner started soon, all right?”

To keep to his promise, Bilbo set about helping to prepare dinner.

“You just wait till we get home,” Bofur told the hobbit as they sat cutting up some vegetables to fry with sausages. “My brother Bombur is the best cook around. I’ll have him cook you and young Master Frodo a huge meal as a ‘welcome to the Blue Mountains’ celebration.”

“That does sound quite lovely,” Bilbo sighed, feeling his stomach grumble in protest.

Once dinner was cooked and eaten, the dwarves set upon finishing putting up camp. Bilbo and Frodo had volunteered to go rinse the dishes in a small stream not too far from camp. When they returned the dwarves were lying out their bedrolls and Thorin and Dwalin were putting up a few parts of their tents, creating a wall to help protect their camp from cold winds. Bilbo hoped the canvas wall would keep them sheltered enough for the night. Bifur happily took the cleaned bowls from the hobbits and Bilbo went to where Thorin was lying out his bedroll.

“So, where are Frodo and I going to sleep?” Bilbo asked. “We don’t have any bedding.”

“W-Well I was thinking you can sleep here with me,” Thorin explained. “Fíli’s got an extra bedroll for Frodo to lay out next to us.” He gestured to the bedding already laid out on the ground.

“Oh, right.” Bilbo’s face flushed terribly bright.

“Would you prefer to have your own bedroll?” Thorin looked anxious. “I may have something extra for you…”

“No, no. I’d like very much to share a bedroll with you.” Bilbo smiled coyly at the dwarf before seating himself on the bedding. “We’ve never shared a night together.”

“No, we have not.” Thorin raised his eyebrows with a sly smirk. Frodo got up and wandered away and when he returned he was holding both Fíli and Kíli’s hands; both had their bedrolls tucked under their arms.

“Here!” Frodo called.

“Frodo,” Bilbo smiled. “What’s this?”

“He wants to sleep next to us, but he also wants to sleep next to you,” Fíli explained. “So we’re all sleeping here.”

“You get to sleep next to Uncle Thorin,” Frodo argued seriously. “I want to sleep next to Fíli and Kíli.”

“I suppose that’s only fair.” Bilbo tried hard to keep from laughing at the young dwarves. They both looked a bit irked they’d been forced to move from their spot in camp but they didn’t look angry.

“We finally get comfortable and you have to come drag us away from our good spots by the fire,” Kíli teased the young hobbit.

“But these are good spots too,” Frodo argued.

“Yes, all right,” Kíli gave in with a sigh as he finished laying out his bedroll.

“Will I get to share a room with you when we get to your home?” Frodo asked. Fíli and Kíli glanced at each other before they both shrugged.

“We’ve probably got enough room if we move things around,” Kíli admitted.

“That does raise some questions…will you continue living with us, Uncle?” Fíli asked. “Or will you move somewhere else with Mister Bilbo?”

“We…haven’t really talked about it at length.” Thorin looked to Bilbo who only shrugged, not able to offer much input.

“No, you have to call Uncle Bilbo ‘Uncle’ now.” Frodo nudged Fíli, which made Kíli grin broadly and stifle a laugh.

“We do?” Kíli looked to Bilbo and Thorin for any kind of explanation and Bilbo blushed.

“Yes! Uncle Thorin is my uncle now so Uncle Bilbo is your uncle too,” Frodo explained simply.

“Oh, yes of course.” Fíli smiled broadly at Frodo. “My mistake. My apologies, _Uncle_ Bilbo.” Bilbo snorted in amusement and continued to blush.

“Come, Frodo. Let’s set up your bed properly,” Kíli offered.

The brunet dwarf helped Frodo get situated for the night as Bilbo got up and oversaw the process. He waited till the young dwarf got Frodo tucked in and ready to sleep before going to lie down next to Thorin.

Bilbo could tell his own face had been flushed since Thorin had mentioned them sharing a bedroll. He should have expected it but it’d still caught him a bit off guard. Frodo’s insistence that Thorin’s nephews call him ‘uncle’ as well also left him feeling properly flustered.

Thorin pulled the heavy fur blanket over them and Bilbo was thankful for the warmth that sharing body heat provided. The night air was chilly and Thorin seemed to radiate heat as Bilbo awkwardly tucked himself next to Thorin.

Even though they’d both expressed feelings for each other Bilbo still felt odd slipping into Thorin’s personal space like that.

He listened as the camp began to go quiet. Bilbo thought he could hear Bifur still singing faintly to himself in the dwarvish language and listened to the fire crackling away. Other than that, the camp was now completely quiet. Bilbo closed his eyes and waited for sleep to find him. Thorin quietly moved and Bilbo felt Thorin’s hand settle on his hip.

Soon his mind forgot his embarrassment of sharing sleeping space with the dwarf and soon started thinking about how truly uncomfortable it was to sleep on the ground.

Bilbo laid thinking about his soft warm bed at home and sighed as he shifted to avoid a rock that was beginning to dig into his side. He missed his bed but the last time he saw it, it was under a heap of rubble and badly damaged by the smoke.

“Are you all right, Bilbo?” Thorin asked, shifting to accommodate Bilbo’s readjustments.

“I just I miss my bed,” Bilbo explained quietly, rubbing away any tears that were starting to form in his eyes.

“Mm,” Thorin hummed. “You know we have very comfortable beds in Ered Luin,” Thorin offered as some sort of consolation.

“Do you?” Bilbo asked a small smile tugging at his lips. “I figured you all slept on rocks or something,” Bilbo explained cheekily.

“Of course we don’t.” Thorin laughed.

“Oh, then I’m relieved.” Bilbo finally turned over and propped himself up on his elbow while Thorin watched him. He situated himself, hovering over Thorin’s face. “So I’ll have a fairly comfortable bed to look forward to then, hm?”

“Yes, I assure you,” Thorin mumbled with a sleepy smile. He reached up to cradle Bilbo’s face in his hand. “I’ve spent the past weeks missing it terribly. I long for it even more so now that I know you’ll be occupying part of it from now on.”

Bilbo smiled and leaned down to capture Thorin’s lips. Thorin sat up a bit more to deepen the kiss as they heard a disgusted noise next to them, making Bilbo jump in surprise. Kíli was sitting on his stomach on the other side of Fíli and Frodo, propped up on his elbows looking over at them. Bilbo was properly embarrassed that they’d been caught, thinking that everyone was already asleep.

“You two are disgusting and before you go any further I’d like to remind you both have your young innocent nephews sleeping next to you who can literally hear everything you’re saying and doing,” Kíli hissed.

“Any further? _Kíli!”_ Bilbo chastised, sitting all the way up now and turning look over at Kíli.

“Do not speak to us like that,” Thorin snapped, quietly as he rolled onto his side and propped himself up. “It’s not respectful.”

 _“You’re_ not respectful,” Kíli muttered quietly, lying back down and turning over. “Just save it for when you have a private room far away from the rest of us.”

“Kíli!” Bilbo groaned.

“Let’s just go to sleep,” Thorin sighed, lying down once more. Bilbo joined him and returned to his search for a comfortable spot.

When Bilbo woke the next morning he found he’d pulled himself on top of Thorin and wrapped his entire body around the dwarf. He smiled sleepily to himself, realizing after his struggle with finding a comfortable spot he’d finally found one.

He sat up, rolling off of Thorin and suddenly realized he’d drooled quite a lot all over Thorin’s tunic. He could feel his face begin to flush as he panicked trying to decide how to make the situation less awkward than it already was.

Thorin began to stir; the weight that had rested on his chest most of the night was now gone. He blinked up at Bilbo who was looking panicked above him.

“What is it?” Thorin asked groggily.

“Sorry,” Bilbo muttered staring straight at Thorin’s chest.

“’Bout what?” Thorin blearily asked. Bilbo poked wordlessly at the damp spot and Thorin’s hand came up to feel it.

“I drool quite a bit in my sleep,” Bilbo explained. A sleepy smile spread over Thorin’s features, his head lolling back and he closed his eyes again.

“I don’t care.” Thorin laughed before opening his eyes again and sat up slowly, leaning in for a good morning kiss.

“Ach, Thorin!” laughed Bilbo. “My breath is terrible! Don’t!”

“I don’t care,” Thorin repeated with smile, pushing against Bilbo’s lips. Despite the hobbit’s protests he gladly reciprocated the gentle kiss.

“Did you stay up the entire night kissing or what?” Kíli asked in a disgusted voice as he came over to begin to pack his things.

“No,” Thorin broke away from Bilbo looking up to where his nephew was standing. “You just have an unusual knack for finding us at inopportune moments.” The young dwarf rolled his eyes and Bilbo chuckled, embarrassed. He pulled himself upright to see the others beginning to pack up camp in the early morning light. Bilbo spotted Frodo already up and helping Fíli pack up one of the ponies.

“What are we doing for breakfast?” Bilbo asked, food coming to mind the moment he felt his stomach rumble. If the rest of the journey were like yesterday he and Frodo would surely starve.

“Go see what Bofur’s got,” Thorin suggested as he began to pack up their bedding. Bilbo sighed and quickly spotted Bofur talking with Nori as they packed their ponies.

“Erm, Bofur?” Bilbo called as he got close. “Have anything for breakfast? Or have I missed it?” Bilbo asked.

“No, you haven’t.” Bofur shot the hobbit a wide grin before providing a few apples from one of the packs on the pony. “Eat up,” Bofur chuckled as he handed the apples over. “Make sure Thorin gets one too, he usually skips breakfast while we’re traveling.” Bofur suggested.

“Should I take one for Frodo as well?” Bilbo suggested.

“Young Master Frodo’s already eaten two this morning,” Bofur quickly explained. Bilbo smiled faintly and wondered how long Frodo had been up and if he’d been bothering any of the others. The young hobbit did have a habit of waking up exceptionally early.

He returned to where Thorin was finishing packing and offered one of the apples.

“No, no, you take them.” Thorin shook his head. “I’m not hungry and I know how hungry you are.” Bilbo gave him a questioning look. “I could hear your stomach when you woke up.”

“One’s enough for me and you have to eat,” Bilbo sighed exasperatedly. Thorin pulled his pack onto his back and reached for the apple that was offered.

“All right,” Thorin gave a sheepish expression, accepting the apple.

Bilbo bit into his own apple as he watched Dwalin and Kíli begin to take down the tent walls they’d put up the night before. Soon Frodo found him and Bilbo smiled a good morning to his nephew, who looked very much at ease among the dwarves already.

“Good morning, Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo greeted with a broad smile.

“Good morning,” Bilbo returned the smile. “Did you sleep well?” Frodo shrugged as Bilbo took another bite of apple. “Mm, me too. Not as comfortable as the beds at home, hm?” Bilbo asked and Frodo nodded in agreement. “Ready for another day of travel?”

“Fíli said we could run into a storm today,” Frodo told his uncle anxiously.

“Oh, did he?” Bilbo frowned. He didn’t like the sound of that. “Are you ready to go?” Bilbo asked and Frodo nodded. Soon all remains of their camp had been packed away and the dwarves were mounting their ponies. Frodo gladly went to ride with Fíli and Bilbo sighed as Thorin motioned for him to come mount their pony. He’d thought about giving riding a shot…having to ride with Thorin was a little embarrassing and probably more uncomfortable than having a pony to himself.

“Sorry to be such a burden,” Bilbo sighed as the Thorin helped him up onto the pony behind the dwarf.

“Bilbo,” Thorin chuckled. “You’re not a burden. I enjoy riding with you.”

“You do?” Bilbo smiled faintly.

“Yes, of course.” Thorin hummed as he spurred his pony onwards and Bilbo tightened his grip on Thorin’s waist. “I realize it’s probably not the most comfortable situation,” Thorin admitted, seemingly reading Bilbo’s own thoughts. “But it’s…” Thorin trailed off. He didn’t quite want to voice how much he enjoyed feeling Bilbo rest against his back and hold tight to his waist.

The hobbit wrapped his arms around him almost as if he could guess what Thorin meant and the dwarf gave a content sigh.

**x**

As it turned out Fíli’s prediction about the storm was accurate. Just after they’d stopped for lunch, the first snowflakes began to appear. Bilbo shivered against Thorin as the temperature dropped quickly. He could see Frodo wrapping himself tightly in Kíli’s fur lined cloak and burying his face into it.

By the time the wind picked up, Thorin decided they needed to get off the road. After another good half an hour of searching they found a slightly sheltered cave against a butte, and they checked that it was safe and would protect them from the weather before setting up camp.

Within the hour it looked as if the conditions were nearly blizzard-like and Bilbo sighed. As if the traveling conditions needed to become any more miserable than they already were.

Soon they managed to get a fire started, albeit a small one, and bedrolls laid out for them all to rest on.

“D’you think we’ll be all right?” Bilbo asked, pulling Thorin’s warm overcoat closer to his body. “I mean this looks like a bad storm.”

“I’ve suffered through worse.” Thorin shrugged. He retold the time he’d traveled out to Bree to find some work and he’d been caught in a massive storm. “I wished I’d found something like this during that trip. There was very little shelter.” Thorin motioned to their protected cave before discreetly pulling Bilbo’s hand into his lap.

While Thorin talked about his excursions outside of the Blue Mountains, his hand was clutching Bilbo’s and his thumb was absentmindedly rubbing over the back of Bilbo’s knuckles. It was a very soothing motion and Bilbo’s eyes drooped as he leaned against Thorin’s shoulder. The hum of his voice was just as comforting and he closed his eyes and listened to Thorin as he began to talk with Dwalin about the smelting practices of Men in Bree.

Soon Frodo came and curled up next to Bilbo, sharing Thorin’s fur lined overcoat.

“Are you cold?” Bilbo asked softly. Frodo nodded, wrapping himself around Bilbo. “Here,” Bilbo shifted. “Come around to sit between Thorin and I. We’ll keep you warm.” Frodo relocated and Thorin smiled gently at the young hobbit.

It was a long chilly night. They didn’t have much for dinner because they didn’t have a big enough fire to cook on. Frodo slept curled between Bilbo and Thorin to keep warm during the night.

When they woke the next day, the storm seemed to have passed but there was a thick layer of snow upon the ground.

“Will we be able to travel today?” Bilbo asked hesitantly still thinking the conditions looked terrible.

“It’ll be a little slower going but it would be unwise to skip another day of travel,” Thorin decided.

The rest of their journey passed with little other hindrances, but the weather was still bitingly cold and riding on the ponies was nearly getting to be unbearable.

Bofur did a good deal of keeping the hobbits’ spirits up, as he’d occasionally sing some dwarvish working songs as they went. Bilbo appreciated the music and eventually offered to sing a few of his own songs, which the others enjoyed immensely.

“We didn’t know hobbits were musical creatures as well!” Bofur exclaimed after Bilbo finished his song. Frodo had sung along to some parts that he remembered Bilbo teaching him.  

“We value music very much,” Bilbo explained. “Every party we have you can be sure of two things: it will always have lots of food and it will always have lots of music. Dancing, too.”

“Wait till we get home!” Kíli called. “Thorin can play his harp for you.”

“You play harp?” Bilbo chuckled turning his attention toward the back of Thorin’s head. He could see the tips of Thorin’s ears turn pinker than they already were against the cold.

“Well, erm…yes,” Thorin admitted. “And I didn’t know you could sing.”

“Shame,” Bilbo murmured. “I’ll have to sing more for you. Only if you play your harp for me,” Bilbo egged on the dwarf.

“It’s a deal,” Thorin agreed with a small chuckle. “Maybe I can sing for you myself.”

“Or perhaps we could do a duet, if that’s the case,” Bilbo teased, the uncomfortable feeling of riding completely forgotten.

“Ah, yes, a duet.” Thorin nodded with a cheeky smile back to Bilbo. The hobbit squeezed Thorin’s sides gently.

“We’ll have a music night!” Bofur decided. “We can all bring our instruments. It can be a part of Bilbo and Frodo’s welcoming ceremony and you can teach us your songs and we’ll sing and dance all night long!”

“Welcoming ceremony?” Bilbo laughed to himself. It sounded properly ridiculous but seemed like the perfect way to chase away the already dull ache of homesickness.

“I’m already going to have Bombur cook for you when we get home. Might as well expand it into a whole celebration!” Bofur explained and Bilbo smiled. A celebration and a large meal sounded extremely welcoming. He sighed while he preoccupied himself with thoughts of food and wished they were there already.

**x**

Another week passed and Bilbo could tell they were getting close with the buzz of excitement among their companions. As they got closer, Bilbo could begin to see signs of civilization. They saw more people on the road and eventually they reached a large stone entryway tucked away into the mountain. Guards that were stationed at the large gates excitedly greeted Thorin and Dwalin and welcomed them home.

They stopped just outside the gates and the ponies were unloaded and gathered up to be led away to the stables and a few dwarves came out to help take their things. The dwarves excitedly talked with those who came to help and Bilbo felt a little odd catching these dwarves peering at the hobbits curiously. Bilbo bit his lip and reached for Frodo’s hand, though he wasn’t sure if it was to comfort Frodo or himself.

The last pony that remained was the one that pulled the small wagon and soon that one was led away past the stone archway.

“They’ll escort your things to my home and we’ll meet them there,” Thorin assured Bilbo. “Now you’re to see your new home,” Thorin told the hobbits proudly. Before they could make their way past the gates there was a loud voice over the commotion of their return.

“Where are my sons?” a dwarrowdam’s voice called and by the way Fili and Kili froze upon hearing the voice Bilbo could guess it was their mother. Suddenly, a dwarf wearing a simple dress appeared and hurried forward to greet them and Fíli and Kíli dropped their things to go to her.

 _“‘Amad!”_ they both cried.

“Oh, my boys,” she sighed, breathlessly holding them close. “Oh, how I missed you.” They each pulled away and the dwarf gently patted Fíli’s cheek. “I can’t tell you how worried I was…for both of you.” Dís sighed, still clutching Kíli’s arm.

“We told you we’d be fine.” Kíli rolled his eyes with a smile. “There was no need to worry.”

“We missed you, ‘Amad.” Fíli smiled gently at his mother who returned it with a broad grin before spotting Thorin behind them.

“Hello, Dís.” Thorin smiled. However, Dís _wasn’t_ looking towards her brother, but rather towards the two hobbits that stood behind him. She hurried forward and grabbed Bilbo’s shoulders. Bilbo was caught off guard at her sudden and very firm grip.

“You must be Bilbo!” she declared smiling at him. “You’re the one my brother has gushed about in his letters! Oh, I can’t tell you how glad I am to finally meet you.”

 _“Dís!”_ Thorin groaned, turning a spectacular shade of pink.

“Oh, don’t act so embarrassed and own up to it,” Dís teased her brother. “You love him, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Bilbo began to blush, matching Thorin’s own hue of pink. He was taken aback by how forward Thorin’s sister was. “Oh, and you must be Frodo!” Dís exclaimed. “I’m Fíli and Kíli’s mother.” Dís extended a hand to Frodo who hesitantly hid behind Bilbo but extended his hand anyway to shake gently. “I’ve heard much about you, as well.”

“She’ll be your Aunt Dís,” Thorin explained, placing a large hand on Frodo’s shoulder.

“Oh, I will?” Dís grinned broadly, turning back to her brother.

“Yes and we have to call Bilbo ‘Uncle Bilbo’ now,” Fíli told his mother. “Frodo’s orders.”

“You do?” Dís couldn’t contain her laughter before she turned to Thorin once again who weakly returned her large grin. She embraced him tightly and it looked as if he had the wind knocked out of him.

“Dís!” Thorin wheezed, returning the hug. She pulled away and rested her forehead on his with a broad smile for a brief moment before pulling away completely.

“You leave to take care of a dragon problem and you come home with a real proper family!” Dís exclaimed. “Oh, how happy I am for you.”

“Come now, Dís. We’re tired,” Thorin complained, but his smile never left his face. She helped take what luggage they still had on them and escorted them back through the city.

They continued in past the large stone gates and under the tall archway into the mountain before Bilbo realized when Thorin said they lived in the mountains they actually lived inside the mountains. He shouldn’t have been surprised, they were _dwarves_ after all.

Though it wasn’t as if it were some damp, dirty cave. Grand columns stretched far up above their heads and Bilbo could see a bustling city within.  Suddenly he was overwhelmed. He had no idea anything like this even existed. He’d heard tale of great dwarvish civilizations but when Thorin was talking about his home Bilbo somehow couldn’t shake the image a small cold village nestled between the mountain peaks. But this, this was _grand_. Or at least much grander than he’d expected.

The hobbits didn’t know where to look as they were led through the city. Dwarves bustled past casting second glances to the strangers. Bilbo paid them no mind as he looked around. His hand clung fast to Frodo’s and Thorin’s, afraid he’d lose either of them while he looked around.

Eventually they reached Thorin’s home and came to a stop. It was tucked away and at a higher elevation so it looked down upon the city. Bilbo thought it looked quite nice. It was obviously a two-story home, which slightly excited him, having always lived in the one-story Bag-End. There were wood beams framing the large wooden front door.

The last of their things were being unloaded by dwarves and carried inside. Among the dwarves Bilbo spotted Dwalin’s bald tattooed head.

“Here we are,” Thorin smiled as Dís went over to talk to the dwarves unloading the wagon.

“You don’t mind we’ve already unloaded it inside already do you?” Dwalin greeted as the last of their things were unloaded.

“Thank you for going ahead and doing that,” Thorin thanked him. “But make sure you go see your brother before it gets too late. I’m sure he’s missed you.”

“Aye,” Dwalin nodded. “I’m headed there next. But I’ll be seein’ you tomorrow,” Dwalin said, bidding Thorin goodbye.

“What’s tomorrow?” Bilbo asked as Dwalin returned to the empty wagon and pony and began to lead it away.

“Work,” Thorin replied. “I’m sure I’ve got a nightmarish pile of it since I’ve left.”

“You dwarves don’t take much of a break, do you?” Bilbo chuckled uneasily.

“Come on,” Thorin avoided Bilbo’s teasing and led them up to the front door. He pushed open the heavy wooden doors to a decent sized abode.  

Bilbo found the home quite roomy and welcoming despite it being smaller than Bag-End. He spotted their things in the front entryway.

From there the home opened into a warm inviting living space. The area was about the size of the parlor and kitchen from Bag-End put together. It included a living area with a place to sit, the kitchen and a dining table and beyond that were some stairs that led up to the second level.

“We’ll start unpacking tomorrow morning,” Thorin assured him, putting a hand at the base of Bilbo’s neck and squeezing it gently. Dís finally made her way inside with Fíli and Kíli trailing behind her.

“Well, good. What I could use right now is a hot bath and some tea,” Bilbo declared setting his own pack down near his other belongings.

“Which do you want first?” Thorin asked, taking Bilbo’s overcoat to hang with the other cloaks by the front door.

“A bath. I haven’t gone this long without a proper bath…in…well, forever.” Bilbo chuckled. “Apologies if we all reek.” Bilbo turned to Dís.

“I’ve had worse, believe me.” Dís gave a pointed look to her sons as she hung up her own cloak. Thorin showed a very eager Bilbo upstairs to the washroom.

“Oh, I should probably go get something to change into,” Bilbo realized as they reached the top of the stairs.

“No worries.” Thorin turned into a door to their left. Bilbo hesitantly followed. He found himself in what looked like Thorin’s bedchambers and his eyes scanned the room. It was a large room, about the size of Bilbo’s room at home. It boasted a large four-poster bed with  a chest at the foot of it that looked as if it was storage for weapons, judging by the ax that laid atop the lid. Against one wall was a large desk carved out of dark stone and an upholstered chair in front of it that had different discarded garments hanging on the back of the chair. Near the bed there was a window looking out upon the city.

“This is your room?” Bilbo asked looking around.

“Yes. And now it’s our room,” Thorin gave the hobbit a warm smile before he headed towards his wardrobe. Thorin opened it and rummaged around for a bit before resurfacing with a fresh set of clothes. “They’re a little small on me,” Thorin admitted sheepishly. “You’ll probably need a new wardrobe.” Thorin suddenly realized.

“Well I don’t know about an entire new wardrobe.” Bilbo shrugged. “My clothes I was able to save were mended and cleaned. And I’ve got the things Bell donated to us.”

“Regardless,” Thorin protested. “You should still have some new clothes since you weren’t able to save or bring all of yours from the Shire. Frodo too. I’m sure if we request the tailor will make whatever clothing you’re most comfortable with,” Thorin assured him.

“That really isn’t necessary, Thorin.” Bilbo shook his head.

“No arguments.” Thorin pressed a quick kiss to the hobbit’s forehead. “I’ll go show you how to work the bath.” Thorin led him back to the washroom. After the bath water was flowing into the large stone tub Thorin made sure Bilbo had everything he needed before at last turning to Bilbo who was shyly beginning to unbutton his vest.

“I may be a while,” Bilbo told him. “I can feel layers of dirt on me.”

“Take as much time as you need.” Thorin leaned down for a kiss. Bilbo closed the space between their lips a bit reluctantly.

“I’m filthy. You’re filthy,” Bilbo commented. “Enough. Let me bathe in peace.”

“Of course,” Thorin said while bowing his head before he exited the room. Bilbo rolled his eyes and turned back towards the bath.

Thorin arrived back downstairs to find that Fíli and Kíli had taken Frodo to show them their own room. He could hear the young hobbit’s laughter from their quarters.

Dís was resting on the sofa, her hands busy with a pair of knitting needles.

“What are you working on?” Thorin asked conversationally as he sat down beside her and began unbuckling his boots.

“Hmm,” she hummed in response. “It’s a gift for Bilbo.” Dís told him reluctantly. “I was hoping to finish before you got back, but time got away from me.”

Thorin sighed and shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he relaxed next to her. He could hear Kíli’s excited voice in the other room and Fíli’s response with another bout of Frodo’s laughter in the background.

“A gift for Bilbo, hm?” Thorin asked.

“You said he lost a good portion of his belongings when his home was destroyed…I thought it might be nice to make him and Frodo something homemade to welcome them.” Dís shrugged. Thorin’s heart swelled a little, glad that his sister was already warming to the hobbits without having ever met them before.

“How was everything else while I was away?” Thorin questioned hesitantly.

“Not as bad as you suspect, probably.” Dís chuckled. “Still quite a nightmare but I was able to handle most of it,” Dís explained. “But some things need your seeing to.” Dís admitted. “Training field needs all kinds of repairs, the orders at the blacksmiths have been backing up and there was some dispute between miners that took at least three weeks to settle and I’m still not sure they’re entirely happy. I’m sure there’s more I’m forgetting at the moment though.”

“What on earth happens when I leave?” Thorin groaned. “Dwalin and I will see to the repairs and is there anyway I can get you to come in and help with the smiths orders?” Thorin begged.

“I’ve been dealing with them the best I could for the past three months, Thorin. I’m done with it. See if Fíli will help out. I’ve got other things to worry about without all the work I’ve had to take on since you were gone. I’ve been neglecting overseeing trade because I handed that off while trying to take care of everything else and that was only supposed to be a temporary fix,” Dís explained, a sharp tone in her voice.

“I’m sorry…I suppose I really needed to stay here.” Thorin shook his head with a sigh.

“No, in the end I’m glad you went. I’m glad you had a chance to meet Bilbo,” Dís sighed with a tired smile as she looked back down at her knitting. “But _Mahal,_ I’m glad you’re home,” Dís told him. “It’s the longest you’ve all been away.”

“I’ve been away longer than this before.”

“Yes, but not with my boys.” Dís folded her arms. “And even then I usually have Dwalin around to help things out a bit. I didn’t like having you all out risking your lives at once. At least Balin was here to help.”

“I _told_ you Fíli and Kíli would be just fine,” Thorin insisted. “It was good experience for them. They’ve been running training exercises for so long it was good for them to have a hand at some real world application.”

 _“Good experience!_ Kíli’s still really only a child…neither of them really should have gone in the first place. I don’t know how the three of you convinced me.”

“You know you were much more adventurous at that age. It’s amazing you didn’t die the way you’d go off on your own. No one was injured and they’re old enough to join us now at least on a small excursion to the Shire. It was nothing dangerous. Besides I made sure they were kept on patrols far away from where the dragons actually were, even if that meant I’d be stuck with those patrols half the time too. We were never in any real danger,” Thorin assured her, trying to seem as innocent as possible. They had actually been in very real danger more than once, but Dís didn’t have to know that.

“Well, that’s for the best then,” Dís sighed. Thorin couldn’t tell if she’d bought it or was just saying that to move on from the conversation. “Can you imagine what would happen if you died in some careless dragon accident?” Dís asked. “If all three of you had died…”

“We’re not _incompetent,”_ Thorin remarked. No matter how many spots of trouble they were in, they weren’t stupid.

“Well, thank Mahal for that otherwise there would be no heirs left to our kingdom, hm?” Dís snapped back in reply.

“Hmm,” Thorin hummed. “Not that it really matters much anymore,” Thorin muttered.

“Not that it matters?” Dís repeated, pausing in her knitting to look up at her brother. “Have you no longer any hope for our return to Erebor?”

“I’m coming to terms that it won’t be in _my_ lifetime.” Thorin rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean the kingdom is destroyed, the Arkenstone lost, and the largest dragon in existence today sitting on top of it all. How do you suggest we’d reclaim the throne?” Dís furrowed her brows and rolled her eyes and when Thorin didn’t get an answer he continued. “It’s impossible. Besides I no longer have the desire to try to reclaim it, _especially_ not now. I’ve got Bilbo and Frodo now and…and a whole life here. I don’t have any desire for a kingdom of that size. I have a hard enough time keeping this place running let alone an entire kingdom.”

“Don’t pretend like you’ve got the world on your shoulders when I’m here to help. In fact, you’ve got plenty of dwarves who are incredibly loyal to you and would be more than happy to offer to help if they don’t already,” Dís called her brother out. Thorin sighed and nodded hesitantly. “But you do not wish for Erebor any longer? Not even for all the gold lying under that mountain?” Dís asked, with a frown.

“I’ve got everything I want here. My family,” Thorin countered gruffly. “It may not be the most prosperous way of living but it’s something. Besides, let’s say I do decide to attempt to reclaim Erebor…I cannot call upon the other dwarf kingdoms. Not without the Arkenstone. I’d have to take volunteers from here in Ered Luin and you know Fíli and Kíli would be the first to volunteer. And you really want us gone even longer than we were this time on a much more dangerous quest?”

“They’re much too young for that,” Dís quickly snapped. Thorin nodded in agreement.

“There’s no sense in risking our kin for a mountain kingdom that hasn’t been lived in for over a century and will probably never be inhabited again.” Thorin shook his head.

“But you’re really going to forsake the line of Durin? You are heir to the throne, just as they’re heirs. It’s _your_ birthright. You’re going to let our line diminish into poverty, our kingdom forgotten?” Dís asked, expectantly.

“Enough, Dís,” Thorin groaned. “If that’s what it takes to keep what we have now safe, then yes.” Thorin argued quietly, as if he were afraid they’d be overheard. “This is a new start for me. Birthrights be damned, this is all I want…besides, there’s no possible way to defeat the dragon standing in our way to reclaim Erebor. Even _with_ an army of dwarves, if it were possible to amass enough to lay siege on the mountain. It’s a fool’s hope that the kingdom will ever be reclaimed again. It’d be unwise to throw our lives away like that.”

“Well, at least that’s something we can agree on. I don’t want anyone throwing lives away for nothing. I just…I hate to think I’ll never get to see the pride of our ancestors.” Dís gave in with a sigh. “I know how important it was to ‘Adad…and to you, for a time. All you used to talk about was defeating Smaug and reclaiming our homeland.” Dís shrugged. “I hate to see you give all that up.”

“If you’ve forgotten, our father disappeared and is most likely dead because of his desire to retake the mountain,” Thorin hissed. Dís grew quiet. “I have no wish to follow him. Not now. I have no use for the dragon-cursed gold under that mountain or the throne,” Thorin insisted.

“Have you…told Bilbo about your birthright?” Dís asked suspiciously.

“No.” Thorin shook his head. “He doesn’t…he shouldn’t be burdened with things that are not his burden to bear. It’s in the past and all I care about now is my future with him here in Ered Luin.”

“I still think at some point you should tell him. But that’s your decision to make, I suppose.” Dís sighed.

“Just as it’s your decision to tell Fíli and Kíli of their status of heirs to a lost kingdom? I don’t recall you ever telling them.”

“They’re still children.” Dís frowned.

“So when will _you_ tell them?” Thorin asked.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t if you think it’s unlikely we’ll ever return to Erebor.” Dís shrugged. “Why should I burden them with things that will never be their burden to bear?” Dís echoed Thorin’s statement. “Perhaps its best if the truth dies with this generation.”

Thorin groaned and shook his head. That wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want the glory and memory of their kingdom to die. But it was too painful to continue to wish for things that would never happen.

“Uncle Thorin!” Frodo ran into the room holding up a piece of parchment. “Look! Fíli and Kíli and I drew you and Uncle Bilbo a picture!”

“Oh, let’s see it then,” Thorin smiled gently at the young hobbit, helping him scramble up onto the sofa without bending the parchment. Frodo sat and pointed at different aspects of the charcoal drawing, which looked like a landscape of some kind. There were some small figures on top of what looked like a mountain that Frodo declared was he, Bilbo, Thorin, Fíli and Kíli. There were a few different styles in the drawing and Thorin could easily guess which parts were Fíli and Kíli’s contribution.

“Where’s Uncle Bilbo? I want to show him,” Frodo asked.

“He’s still bathing, but we’ll make sure he sees it when he’s done,” Thorin assured him and Frodo pushed himself off the couch again to return to Fíli and Kíli’s room. He and Dís were quiet for a moment.

“Well, I’m very happy for you, Thorin,” Dís finally spoke as she smiled, gently. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d settle down and marry. You and Bilbo are going to make each other very happy, I can tell.”

“Thank you,” Thorin sighed with a tired smile. “I’m very pleased you approve.”

“My real question is: When do I need to start helping to plan the wedding?”

“Not just yet.” Thorin laughed quietly and shook his head. “Give him some time to adjust and make sure this is what he wants…”

Bilbo finally made his way downstairs from the washroom and came to find Thorin and Dís quietly talking.

“I feel properly ridiculous, Thorin,” Bilbo complained when the two dwarves took notice of him. Bilbo put his hands on his hips and frowned, the clothes hanging loosely off his frame. Thorin gave a loud laugh and jumped up to help adjust the clothes a little better. “You’re not helping, I’ve already tried that.” Bilbo swatted his hands away from the laces on the tunic.

“Fine,” Thorin leaned down to kiss Bilbo, who swiftly dodged out of the way.

“No, not until you go bathe,” Bilbo declared. “Go. Frodo’s next.”

“Oh, Frodo had a drawing he wanted to show you.” Thorin remembered quickly. “I told him I’d tell you.” Bilbo smiled softly.

“All right, I’ll make sure I see it.” Bilbo nodded before Thorin turned back to the washroom.

Bilbo turned and found Dís watching them with a fond smile and Bilbo blushed, forgetting they weren’t the only ones in the room. She didn’t tease him or say anything; instead she shrugged, put away her knitting, and stood up.

“Now, I think you said something about tea?” Dís asked and Bilbo nodded.

“That would be lovely.” Bilbo answered. “Where is Frodo, by the way?”

“Just go down that way and it’s the door on the left.” Dís pointed as she moved into the kitchen. Bilbo nodded before hesitantly starting in the direction Dís had pointed. He reached the large wooden door on his left and it was cracked open. The hobbit lightly knocked before pushing it open to reveal a room larger than Thorin’s. There were two beds in the room and it was much less tidy, with discarded clothes scattered on the floor. There were weapons and knives, both in and out of their sheaths, lying on the unmade beds, which made Bilbo a tad nervous.

“Bilbo!” Fíli called, jumping in surprise. It looked as if he’d washed up and was reclined on his bed. Kíli held Frodo in his lap, sitting at the desk in their room while Frodo industriously scribbled away with the charcoal and parchment.

“Sorry, your mother said you’d be down here.” Bilbo anxiously clenched and unclenched his hand.

“No, no it’s all right, come in.” Fíli shook his head as he tried pushing part of the mess out of sight and Bilbo chuckled. “It’s not normally like this, I promise,” Fíli explained. “Just getting home and all…” Bilbo gave him a wry look and Kíli turned towards Bilbo with a smile and Frodo finally looked up.

“Oh, Frodo you’re filthy,” Bilbo sighed, seeing the smudged charcoal on Frodo’s hands.

“Sorry,” Kíli apologized sheepishly, who was still equally as filthy.

“No, it’s all right he has to bathe anyway,” Bilbo shrugged and bit his tongue before suggesting Kíli did the same. “Thorin tells me you had a drawing you wanted to show me, Frodo.” Bilbo stepped closer to see what Frodo was working on.

“Wait! This one isn’t done yet.” Frodo quickly hid the current piece he was working on underneath the other sheets of parchment. “This one!”

“We helped,” Kíli told the hobbit proudly.

Dís called them for tea and Kíli stood up, placing Frodo back on the ground. They put the drawings away before heading back out to the kitchen where the table was set for tea, which caused Bilbo to sigh in contentment. It was the most welcomed sight he’d seen in weeks. Dís made Kíli go clean up before he sat with them and Frodo climbed up onto Bilbo’s lap. Bilbo tried his best to clean Frodo’s dirty hands as Dís served the tea. Once Frodo’s hands were free of charcoal smudges he reached for a biscuit to chew on while Bilbo fixed Frodo’s tea. Eventually Bilbo fixed his own cup before finally inhaling the sweet scent and taking a sip.

It wasn’t long before Thorin came into the kitchen; he’d changed out of his traveling clothes and his damp hair had been pulled back into a loose braid. Bilbo smiled faintly as the dwarf had to pull an extra chair up to the table, next to the hobbits.

“Better?” Thorin asked as he kissed Bilbo’s temple.

“Better,” Bilbo turned and pulled Thorin in for a proper kiss while Kíli rolled his eyes and made a gagging noise and Fíli gave a low laugh.

Once they finished their tea Bilbo took Frodo to the washroom and began running the water for him.

“Make sure you scrub hard.” Bilbo laid out some fresh bedclothes, which were oversized hand-me-downs from Kíli that had been graciously supplied by Dís. Bilbo would have suggested at least unpacking some of their own clothing to use but for now this was easier. “And rinse well. I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

“I’m fine, Uncle Bilbo. I can bathe by myself,” Frodo assured him as he shed his trousers. Bilbo looked anxiously at the deep tub. He’d only filled it up half way just to be safe but it would still be easy enough for Frodo to trip, fall and drown.

“I’ll come check on you in a bit,” Bilbo promised before finally leaving the room.

That night Frodo stayed in Thorin’s room with Bilbo, sandwiched between the two adults.

“This isn’t a permanent solution,” Bilbo told his nephew who looked perfectly happy to sleep between the two for the rest of his life. “There’s not enough room for us all!”

“I like your bed Uncle Thorin.” Frodo mumbled, curled up beneath the covers.

“I’ve never had to share my bed before, especially with this many people,” Thorin groaned. “You’re going to take up all my space, Frodo.” Thorin stretched and wrapped his arms around Frodo, squishing him against his broad chest.

Bilbo laughed softly as Frodo wound down. Thorin leaned over and kissed both hobbit’s foreheads and Frodo giggled.

“Goodnight, my hobbits,” Thorin murmured, laying his head on his plush pillow.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF, FLUFF AND MORE FLUFF. We also get a little discussion about the Lonely Mountain in this chapter as well having Thorin take the 'a life in the Blue Mountains is worth more than all the gold in Erebor' stance for now. 
> 
> Also there's the mention of Thráin and in the new DOS EE it's implied Thráin went missing immediately after the Battle of Azanulbizar. However, in the book canon, Thráin survived that battle to go settle in the Blue Mountains with his remaining children and the rest of the dwarves for a time before he became 'restless' and took a company of dwarves to reclaim Erebor, Dwalin and Balin being a part of that quest as well. While in Mirkwood during this quest Thráin went missing: captured and imprisoned in Dol Guldur (like we see in the DOS EE) so in this case I'm referencing more of the book canon less of the movie canon.
> 
> ((Also on a publishing schedule note: this fic may slow down a little over this month since I'm participating in NaNoWriMo! I'm writing a fem!Bagginshield fic that I'll hopefully also publish at some point. If you want more information on it go [here~](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com/post/101462976103/other-side-of-the-map-fem-bagginshield-au))) 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been reading!! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°


	6. Adjustments

As promised, Bofur invited Bilbo and Frodo to a welcoming celebration at the main gathering hall in Ered Luin shortly after they’d arrived.

It was a small gathering by hobbit standards but there were still a good number of dwarves present. Bilbo couldn’t remember all their names as they were introduced but he was sure at some point he’d bring himself to become familiar with them all. However, Bilbo was far more concerned with the prospect of food being served instead of memorizing countless dwarvish names. He and Frodo were extremely pleased with the food Bofur’s brother, Bombur, had cooked them after two weeks of camp food.

There was even music and singing after their large feast.

“Come on.” Thorin excitedly tugged Bilbo’s hand when an upbeat song began, gesturing towards the clearing near where the dwarves playing their instruments sat.

“R-Really?” Bilbo hissed, unsure if he really wanted to dance with Thorin in front of a bunch of dwarves he had only just met.

“Yes, up you get.” Thorin nodded eagerly as he finally pulled Bilbo onto his feet and the hobbit blushed heavily as he stumbled along, following Thorin’s lead. Bilbo giggled as he stepped on Thorin’s feet multiple times.

“You know I’m usually a much better dancer than this,” Bilbo chuckled after the fourth time stepping on Thorin’s foot. Thorin slowed a bit to lean down and give Bilbo a quick awkward kiss and Bilbo smiled coyly at the dwarf.

“You’re doing lovely,” Thorin encouraged him. “I’m just glad I’m not the one stepping on feet.”

“Yes, I’m quite glad of that as well.” Bilbo laughed. “I didn’t know you could properly dance, you know.” Bilbo smiled as the song came to an end and they settled into a slow sway as Thorin’s right hand settled on Bilbo’s lower back, the other hand gently holding onto the hobbit’s. “I mean you look like you’d be a lot…heavier on your feet, no offense.” Thorin gave the hobbit a small smile.

“Seems like there are quite a lot of things you don’t know about me then,” Thorin told him with a suave smile and Bilbo frowned.

“Yes, funny that,” Bilbo shrugged, looking away briefly and Thorin’s smile faded.

“It’s not a bad thing, Bilbo.” Thorin tried to convince him, gently rubbing circles on Bilbo’s lower back. “We have all this time to get to know each other better now and I’m very much looking forward to that. But you could honestly tell me you secretly turn into a dragon every full moon and I would still love you.”

Bilbo’s pensive expression disappeared and was replaced with an amused one and he laughed out loud, smiling up at Thorin.

“Oh no,” Bilbo gasped as his face twisted into mock surprise. “You’ve discovered my secret.”

“Is that how your mother knew so much about dragons?” Thorin asked humorously.

“Why, yes.” Bilbo played along. “We were all actually family of secret hobbit-dragons. Very rare and very dangerous.”

“Ah,” Thorin nodded. “Everything makes sense now. Well, I still love you,” Thorin assured the hobbit. “I promise.” Bilbo gave the dwarf a wry look before his face broke into a wider smile.

“So do you have any dark family secrets like turning into a dragon during a full moon then?” Bilbo teased. Thorin’s smile faltered for a moment.

“Me? No, not really,” Thorin laughed, though the light-heartedness had begun to fade from his laugh. “Unless you count being a poor cook or having an even worse sense of direction.”

“Is that true?” Bilbo smiled broadly.

“Oh, yes,” Thorin divulged, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. “You already knew about the cooking but I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten myself lost. I even lost my way twice trying to find your home after escorting you home that afternoon.”

“Well, I’m very glad you found us,” Bilbo sighed contently.

“Yes, glad my sense of direction cooperated enough to lead me back to you.” Thorin gave the hobbit a sly smile.

**x**

It took Bilbo several weeks to getting used to waking up in a room other than his own at Bag-End. Though it was pleasant waking up beside Thorin, he missed his own room back at home, terribly.

They soon were able to create a separate bedroom for Frodo by converting a hardly used study across the hall from Bilbo and Thorin’s own room. However, half of the nights Frodo still ended up sleeping with Fíli or Kíli and occasionally ended up back in Thorin and Bilbo’s bed.

There was still an adjustment period as Bilbo and Frodo settled into life there in Ered Luin. It seemed as if everyone had a routine to settle back into when they got back and Bilbo and Frodo were left trying to find their place. On more than one occasion Bilbo became especially cross with Thorin for not being very helpful in those matters. He was constantly off attending to matters and leaving Bilbo and Frodo to their own devices many more times than Bilbo would have liked. After a particularly bad row about it Bilbo wanted to start packing his bags and head back to the Shire where things weren't so confusing and distressing.

He used to have a routine in the Shire where he didn’t have to depend on anyone else. There he could garden or he could spend the day cooking to his heart’s content. He could spend the day in his study reading or writing or he could spend the day down at the market or the Green Dragon. Here everything was strange and unfamiliar. He didn’t quite trust himself to go wandering about without a dwarf escort just yet. It was infuriating feeling like he didn’t quite belong.

Dís was able to soothe Bilbo a bit and talk through his frustrations. She often brought home lots of ingredients from her long days of overseeing trade in the markets and Bilbo soon got used to cooking in their small kitchen area. A few of his days he spent with Frodo, baking things for when the others arrived home.

Fíli and Kíli were always the most excited about coming home to the place smelling like freshly baked cakes. Dís had to smack their hands away more than once as if they were still young dwarflings.

“Not until after you eat dinner,” Dís chastised and the boys would whine and groan about how unfair it was and how they were nearly grown dwarves and they should have been allowed to eat whatever they pleased, when they pleased.

Soon Kíli offered to let the hobbits tag along with him to the training field.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Kíli?” Thorin asked nervously when Kíli had suggested it. Bilbo started to feel concerned that Thorin thought just observing a training regimen would be too much for the hobbits to handle.

“They’ll be fine, Uncle,” Kíli quickly assured Thorin.

So he began taking them along to the training sessions he held with other young dwarves. It wasn’t until two or three visits to the training grounds that Bilbo realized what the iron cage over the top of the training field was for.

Dragons.

On the opposite side of the field from where Bilbo and Frodo sat, there was a large structure Bilbo had only guessed was an armory or something of that sort to store weapons they trained with. Instead it seemed to house dragons that would be unleashed for the dwarves to learn against.

The first few times the dragons were brought out Frodo became incredibly anxious and whimpered in fear, leaving Bilbo glad that their perch was a rocky outcropping a safe distance away and overlooking the field. The dwarfs had begun training with smaller dragons like Terrible Terrors but they were beginning to work their way up in size.

Bilbo thought it was almost barbaric to keep the dragons caged like that to learn to fight against but couldn't protest much since the skills taught here on the training field had probably saved their lives. But here mere children were being taught to fight against these beasts in a caged arena. Bilbo had thought Fíli and Kíli were nearly too young to know how to fight dragons and now here he was watching even younger dwarves going up against all sorts of dragons.

Dwalin was there the days they trained with the live dragons, overseeing the sessions to make sure nothing happened, but Bilbo was concerned that not even Dwalin could prevent something terrible from happening to any one of the dwarves on the training field.

Bilbo felt a little like he should take Frodo and leave immediately when a Nadder was brought out, but Dwalin assured them that everything would be fine. Bilbo knew they were at a safe enough distance from the field and protected by the iron enclosure over the training field. Besides, the dragons were too focused on those on the training field to be concerned about those outside of it. However, Bilbo remembered one of Thorin’s projects when they returned was to repair damages to the enclosure and that made Bilbo more than a little anxious.

But soon Frodo grew accustomed to watching the dragons during training. He’d still clutch tighter to Bilbo’s arm and didn’t dare go any closer but he’d watch with wide, curious eyes.

Even with the insane live dragon training sessions and the ebbing frustrated feeling, Bilbo soon began to feel more at home and despite Thorin’s pigheadedness. Thorin really did try his hardest to make sure Bilbo and Frodo felt welcome in the mountains.

When Bilbo wasn’t watching the training sessions, he spent his days assisting Dís with some of her trade duties. The dwarven markets were incredible. He thought the market in Hobbiton was quite large but this exceeded those markets, ten fold. By running errands for her, Bilbo was quick to learn the lay of the land there in Ered Luin.

Within a month Bilbo had a pretty good grasp of where everything was and what was going on there in the Blue Mountains.

He got to know quite a few dwarves and enjoyed spending time with them. On more than one occasion in the evenings they’d gather to play their instruments and sing. Those nights were Bilbo’s favorite. It very much reminded him of home and the many festivals with lots of singing and dancing. Occasionally Thorin would bring his harp to play along and watching him pluck away at its strings always mesmerized Bilbo.

One evening Thorin had invited Bilbo and Frodo along to one of his council meetings. Bilbo clasped his hand in Thorin’s as they made their way to the main hall.

“What is this for again?” Bilbo asked as he watched Frodo walk alongside Fíli. “I’m not sure I understand what this is for or what we’re doing.”

“You don’t have to do anything. It’s just a general meeting to discuss the things that have been going on. There was one just after we arrived but I didn’t think you’d…well, you were with Kíli that evening, I believe.” Thorin scrambled to try and remember. Bilbo nodded and thought he remembered Thorin saying something about a council meeting a few weeks before. Thorin was right; they’d been watching one of Kíli’s sessions at the training field that had gone late. But tonight Kíli joined them as well.

They arrived and Thorin greeted a few dwarves on the way in. Bilbo took his seat next to Thorin at the grand circular table and watched as the dwarves settled into place. Bilbo was a bit startled when it was Thorin who called the meeting to order. Suddenly all eyes turned their way and Bilbo quickly became very self-conscious.

He was shocked to learn Thorin was the one running the whole gathering. He wasn’t just calling the meeting to order, he was _running_ it. The dwarves looked to him with respect and Bilbo’s heart swelled a bit to see the admiration of the others toward Thorin. How on earth had he been able to capture the attention of such a seemingly important dwarf?

Patiently, Bilbo listened to the lengthy discussions and occasionally got lost when dwarves would break into their language of Khuzdul. When it seemed the meeting was drawing to a close, a dwarf Bilbo didn’t recognize addressed Thorin.

“Would you care to introduce us to your guests?” The dwarf’s gaze turned to the hobbits on Thorin’s right.

“Oh,” Thorin nodded. “This is Bilbo Baggins and his nephew Frodo Baggins.” Frodo perked up at the sound of his name. Previously he had been leaning against Kíli who was to Bilbo’s right. “They are hobbits of the Shire. I met them during our excursion to protect the Shire from the dragons that had settled in, just north of Hobbiton,” Thorin explained as the dwarves continued to look expectantly at  Thorin. Thorin took a deep breath and continued. “They are not just here as my temporary guests. Bilbo is my…intended.” His voice stumbled awkwardly on the word. Thorin had referred to Bilbo as his intended once or twice before while introducing him to others, but the word still seemed to trip Thorin up. Bilbo’s lips curved into a small smile and inclined his head politely at the dwarves that were now scrutinizing him closely. “They will be staying here permanently as a part of my family so you’ll show him and Frodo the same respect you give me, my sister and my sister-sons,” Thorin quickly barked when the dwarf looked like he was going to make a smart comment.

No one gave Thorin any flack after that and soon the meeting quickly came to a close and the dwarves began to slowly make their way out of the hall. Bilbo sat and chatted politely with Balin, Dwalin’s elder brother, whom he’d met just after their arrival. The hobbit enjoyed the company of the silver haired dwarf much more than his brash, loud brother. He didn’t mind Dwalin, the dwarf was incredibly kind and he was very sweet to Frodo, but Bilbo got on with Balin much better than the intimidating dwarf.

Eventually Balin excused himself, following his brother out of the hall, and Bilbo turned to Thorin who was finishing up a conversation with Fíli.  Kíli had already taken Frodo home; after the long meeting, the young hobbit was fidgety and hungry. Bilbo didn’t blame his nephew. He was beginning to feel antsy and in need of something to eat towards the end of the meeting too. Finally Fíli bid his uncle goodbye and left with Dís and another dwarf, who were deep in discussion about regulations and taxes. They were nearly the last ones left.

“So, that was interesting,” Bilbo offered once they were the last two in the meeting hall.

“What do you mean?” Thorin asked as he collected his things, thumbing through a stack of parchment covered in the Dwarvish runes.

“You didn’t tell me this was _your_ meeting,” Bilbo explained with a shrug. “I didn’t realize you were such an important dwarf.”

“I’m…not, really,” Thorin looked almost ashamed and Bilbo frowned.

“You seemed like it to me.” Bilbo shrugged. “I’m only saying I think I did pretty good for myself,” Bilbo teased.

Thorin remained quiet and Bilbo seemed to gather that he might have struck a nerve. He couldn’t quite figure why that of all things would bother Thorin.

“Something wrong, Thorin?” Bilbo ventured, hesitantly. Thorin avoided Bilbo’s gaze and it looked like he was deep in thought. He opened his mouth and closed it once or twice.

“It’s…nothing,” Thorin finally muttered.

“Hm,” Bilbo hummed. “All right. It’s just…I’m proud of you,” Bilbo explained. Thorin raised his eyebrows and gave the hobbit sheepish smile. “Oh, goodness that sounds…I just mean, well you know.” Bilbo blushed. “I love you,” Bilbo finished lamely.

“I’m not ashamed or embarrassed or anything like that,” Thorin finally divulged. “I just…I don’t…feel like I deserve to be called a…a leader.”

“Why ever not?” Bilbo asked. “I think you’re excellent.” Thorin shrugged with a small smile.

“Thank you.” Thorin paused and leaned down to capture Bilbo’s lips. The hobbit chuckled quietly against the dwarf’s lips. “I love you too,” Thorin murmured when they broke apart.

“Let’s get home, I’m sure they’re wondering where we’re at,” Bilbo suggested, taking the dwarf’s hand as they left the meeting hall.

They returned home to find Frodo was already dressed for bed, sitting with Fíli and Kíli beside the fire and playing some game with colored stones on a game board.

Dís too was home and lounging in the living area watching the boys play together, offering her strategy to whichever player needed it the most.

“Ah, there you are,” Dís smiled up at them as they returned. Bilbo went and fixed them tea and found himself something to eat before coming to sit with Thorin and Dís near the fire. “Did you do all right at the meeting, Bilbo?”

“What?” Bilbo looked puzzled by the question. “Oh, yes,” Bilbo finally nodded.

“You don’t have to go to every meeting,” Dís promised. “They’re a tad boring.”

“No, it was fine,” Bilbo assured her. “I don’t mind them all that much. Maybe eventually I’ll be some kind of help to you with matters here in Ered Luin. I just didn’t know I signed up to become part of such a significant family.”

Dís gave a small smile to the hobbit before giving an unsure look to her brother. Thorin skillfully avoided her poignant gaze.

“Uncle Bilbo, look!” Frodo jumped up and ran to Bilbo, distracting them from the topic at hand. “I’ve got braids like a dwarf!” Frodo proudly displayed the messy braid behind his ear.

“Let me see,” Thorin motioned for Frodo to come over to him. “Kíli did these, did he?” Thorin asked. Frodo hummed and nodded. “They’re terrible,” Thorin teased.

“Well, there’s a reason he doesn’t do braids.” Fíli chuckled, pulling an embarrassed Kíli closer and began to braid his brother’s hair for him. Their game seemed completely forgotten now as the brunet dwarf let his brother have his way with his hair.

“Frodo’s hair is too short to do a proper braid,” Kíli complained, while he adjusted to be comfortable as Fíli braided. “And it’s too difficult to braid my own.” Fíli laughed at his younger brother.

“You could let me do them for you, you idiot.” Fíli grinned as he continued to work. Kíli gave another embarrassed mumble before going quiet.

“Come here, Frodo.” Thorin patted his lap and Frodo scrambled up onto the dwarf. Thorin’s thick fingers worked to undo Kíli’s poor braids and redo them.

“Is there a meaning behind braids?” Bilbo asked, curiously.

“Sometimes, yes,” Thorin said. “It’s not uncommon for members of a family to share a style of braids,” Thorin explained simply.

Bilbo tried to discreetly study the braids of Dís and Fíli and compare them to Thorin’s. From what he could tell it was the braids from their temples finished with silver beads that connected the three of them. Bilbo looked back to Thorin who was studiously working on braiding Frodo’s short curly hair.

“Quite often when we dwarves marry we’ll create braids and beads to go into those braids.” Thorin continued his explanation as his fingers wove through Frodo’s hair. Bilbo gently reached for one of Thorin’s temple braids to study the design on the bead. “And that’s what binds the couple together as a family.”

“So does that mean I’ll have to find a way to braid my hair when we marry?” Bilbo asked, letting go of Thorin’s braid before pulling at his own hair and trying to determine if it could be braided.

“You don’t have to,” Thorin chuckled, his face burning red. “You’re not bound by our dwarvish traditions.”

“It’s not mandatory at least,” Dís offered.

“I should like to have something,” Bilbo decided. “I’ll have to start growing my hair out a bit.”

“There you are, Frodo.” Thorin finished Frodo’s braid off so it didn’t unravel.

“Wait, when are you and Uncle Bilbo getting married?” Frodo asked as he twisted around in Thorin’s lap, looking as if he’d missed something important.

“We haven’t made any plans just yet, Frodo,” Thorin answered. “And to be honest, I’m just glad to hear your uncle still wants to marry me at all,” he muttered as if telling a secret to Frodo. The young hobbit gave a quiet giggle looking back to Bilbo, who only rolled his eyes.

“Of course I do.” Bilbo shook his head with a bashful look and Thorin reached over to grab Bilbo’s hand and leaned over to peck his lips. Frodo closed his eyes and made a mock gagging noise. Thorin laughed and gently mussed Frodo’s hair as Frodo opened his eyes again.

“Wait, are you going to get married here?” Frodo turned to Bilbo.  “Can we invite hobbits? Will we invite our cousins? What about Sam? Can we invite him?” Frodo asked excitedly. Bilbo laughed at Frodo’s eagerness.

“Yes, of course we can…” Bilbo smiled. “We’ll have a lot to discuss between now and then, though, okay?” Frodo nodded before jumping out of Thorin’s lap and returning back to his spot by Fíli and Kíli as Fíli finished braiding his brother’s hair. Thorin pulled Bilbo in closer to him and kissed his temple while Bilbo chuckled and repositioned himself to get comfortable against the dwarf.

**x**

Soon Bilbo and Thorin—and Dís, much to Bilbo’s amusement and much to Thorin’s dismay—began making plans for their wedding.

They soon decided they’d be wed in the Shire. It was where all of Bilbo’s family was and it was where they’d met. It’d provide a good chance for Bilbo and Frodo to visit their friends and family since their departure that winter.

The dwarves who wanted to be present would travel with them and Thorin seemed pleased about the restrictions this placed on many of the dwarves who lived there in the Blue Mountains. From what Bilbo gathered, Thorin did not want a big celebration in Ered Luin. After the past few months under scrutiny with he and Frodo being the only hobbits in the mountains, Bilbo was just fine with that decision.

Bilbo proposed going back for Midsummer’s Eve so they could enjoy the festivities and visit all of the hobbits’ friends and family. Thorin quickly agreed that he liked the idea and Bilbo sent letters to his family and his neighbors. He explained that they’d be back then and that they were intending to be wed during the celebration.

Though, as the wedding grew closer and closer, Bilbo hardly saw Thorin. He seemed to be working even more than when they had first arrived and Bilbo was not entirely pleased. Even though Thorin had apologized, the trend continued and left Bilbo feeling exasperated.

“Why can’t he just come home? Call it a day when it’s dinner time like everyone else?” Bilbo moaned over dinner to Dís.

“Many dwarves are very devoted to their craft,” Dís tried to explain, but it didn’t improve Bilbo’s mood at all. “Though most dwarves with families split their time equally between their craft and their home life. But he’s always been like this,” Dís attempted to comfort Bilbo.  “You can’t change him overnight…”

“Back in the Shire, Thorin spent so much time up at Bilbo’s home,” Fíli explained to his mother. “So you probably had no idea.” Fíli turned and looked apologetically at the hobbit. The blond haired nephew had come home from the smithy nearly an hour ago without Thorin. Fíli said when he had left Thorin was trying to finish up but he still hadn’t made it home in time for dinner and Bilbo’s stomach got the better of his patience.

“Yes, because _we_ hardly saw him then,” Kíli laughed. “But that was also because he was working and we didn’t always have the same watch shift. But when he wasn’t working he was always up having dinner and spending the evening with you. You really got a treat there,” Kíli tried to assure Bilbo. Dís turned to the hobbit with a fond smile.

“He has been working a lot though,” Fíli contradicted. “I mean even for Thorin standards. I thought for sure you’d be the one to break him of that habit, Bilbo,” Fíli admitted and Bilbo frowned, not feeling much better at all. Frodo poked the blond dwarf in the ribs. _“Uncle_ Bilbo,” Fíli corrected and Frodo laughed. Bilbo’s frown slowly turned into a smile upon hearing Frodo’s laughter and sighed. Maybe it _was_ just extremely busy and Thorin felt such a responsibility to his work that he must work tireless hours.  It still irked Bilbo quite a bit but there wasn’t much he could do other than chastise Thorin every night when he did finally get in. He hated to always greet Thorin with an irritated sigh but it was getting harder and harder to _not_ become upset with him.

Bilbo’s frustration led him to retiring early and letting Frodo stay up with Fíli and Kíli.

He curled up in the squashy armchair in their room that had been moved from the small study which was now serving as Frodo’s room. Draping a thick knitted blanket over his knees, he pulled the most recent book he’d been reading into his lap. He hoped he could bury himself in a good book and forget all about his sour mood but it still didn’t do him very good.

When at last he heard Thorin enter their room, Bilbo sighed looking up from his book.

“I know,” Thorin groaned in response. “I spoke to my sister when I got home and I know you’re not happy.”

“It’s…well, yes I’m not happy, but you knew that already.” Bilbo closed his book. “I didn’t give up my life in the Shire to sit around all day waiting on you to be finished with work,” Bilbo huffed.

“I thought we’ve already settled your issues with feeling useless around here,” Thorin muttered resentfully as he treaded over to his wardrobe and got changed for the night.

“This isn’t about that anymore—don’t change the subject. This is about you spending time with us,” Bilbo explained bitterly. “I understand that you are very dedicated to your work, it’s just…I miss you,” Bilbo admitted softly, dropping the harsh sound in his voice. “I do admire your sense of devotion to your craft but I also wish you’d dedicate yourself to spending a little more time with your soon-to-be husband.” Bilbo frowned. “I feel like a widower and we’re not even married,” Bilbo muttered, looking back down to his book.

“I do not wish to make you feel like a widower,” Thorin mumbled apologetically, closing the wardrobe. “Look,” Thorin started as he crossed the small distance between the wardrobe and the armchair. He knelt down in front of Bilbo’s knees and reached out, taking Bilbo’s hand and forcing him to put the book down in his lap. “I’m going to try to make it home for dinner tomorrow night, all right? I think I should be able to manage that. And after dinner we can spend all evening together, just you and I.”

“Well, I suppose that is a good place to start,” Bilbo sighed giving the dwarf’s hand a squeeze. “Can you tell me how much longer this is going to last?”

“Hopefully I’ll have finished all my overwhelming work by tomorrow,” Thorin explained, his thumb rubbing Bilbo’s knuckles gently.

“That soon?” Bilbo looked pleased and Thorin nodded before pushing himself up on the balls of his feet to give Bilbo a quick peck on the lips and then rocking back onto his heels. “Can you tell me what you’ve been spending so much time on?” Bilbo asked, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Customer confidentiality,” Thorin replied with a shrug and a small smile.

“Even to me? What am I going to do, tell everyone you’re making armor for this or that dwarf?” Bilbo looked at Thorin incredulously.

“Even to you,” Thorin answered brusquely before leaning in for another kiss that lingered a little longer than the last before he stood back up straight again. Bilbo flushed and pressed no further. “Now will you join me in bed? I’m exhausted and I’d very much like to fall asleep next to you,” Thorin requested before he went to wash up.

“Yes, yes,” Bilbo sighed, closing his book completely and putting it back on their small bookshelf and folding up the knit blanket.

**x**

However, the next evening Thorin was just as late and Bilbo was not pleased in the least. Bilbo had already gotten in bed and was starting to think he’d have to put out the lights and let Thorin find his way to bed in the dark, when the dwarf in question finally entered the room.

“I thought you said you’d have dinner with us tonight.” Bilbo folded his arms as Thorin slowly entered their room looking ashamed of himself.

“I…was unaware how late it was.” Thorin looked apologetic yet again. Bilbo thought it was a tad pathetic. _If he didn’t want the scolding he should learn to come home on time,_ Bilbo thought irritably to himself.

“Thorin, this is the fourth time this week you’ve been ‘unaware of how late it was’.” Bilbo frowned.

“I came home at a decent time that one evening earlier this week,” Thorin protested weakly.

“Oh, how kind of you to grace us with your presence once a week,” Bilbo sighed derisively.  “Are you at least finished now?”

“I know how unfair it’s been to you but…yes. I am finished,” Thorin promised.

“Well, good.” Bilbo nodded with a small huff, turning his attention back to his book. He knew he should be much more pleased about the news that Thorin was finished but he was too irritated to try to appear that way.

“It’s for you,” Thorin admitted, causing Bilbo to frown and look back up.

“What?” Bilbo blinked, sitting up. “What on earth do you mean?” Thorin went to his bag and pulled out a long thin package wrapped in a velvet cloth. Bilbo was speechless as Thorin handed it over to him.

“I wanted you to have it before we return to the Shire,” Thorin explained as Bilbo slowly unwrapped the gift. A leather sheath fell into his lap with a handsome sword hilt protruding from it. Bilbo frowned and carefully picked up the gift, pulling the handle and unsheathing the short sword. “Do you…do you like it?” Thorin asked nervously. Bilbo stared wordlessly at it, some form of irritation rising in the back of his throat.

“What...is it?” Bilbo asked flatly, trying not to betray his annoyance. Thorin’s hopeful expression began to fall.

“It’s a sword,” Thorin replied brusquely. “Obviously.”

“I know that…but why?” Bilbo returned the answer with another question. It wasn’t that he was unappreciative. He was just frustrated to learn Thorin had been…wasting all this time creating something that would never be useful to a hobbit. Thorin exhaled loudly.

“To protect yourself. It’s a…a wedding gift.”

“Thorin, I have never used a sword in my life,” Bilbo rebuked. “I don’t need—I’m not going to carry a _sword_ around with me…I’m a hobbit. I believe we had this discussion before? Hobbits are not like dwarves. We’re not warriors.”

“For my sake,” Thorin groaned, taking a seat on the bed and reaching for Bilbo’s hand. “Please. Just accept it. With us traveling again…I’d feel much safer knowing that you have a form of protection on you. Just in case.”

“I understand the sentiment, Thorin,” Bilbo finally conceded, letting Thorin gently massage his hand while he looked back at the short blade. The intricate designs in the handle resembled leaves and the blade was short and light enough that Bilbo wouldn’t have a hard time wielding it. “I’m just not used to being given anything like this and I’m a little cross that _this_ is what you’ve been spending all your time on. I would have much rather spent the time you took working on this, together. I’m…I’m just trying to understand you ridiculous dwarves.”

Thorin bit his lip and let go of Bilbo’s hand, looking like he was refraining from snapping back at the hobbit.

“I should have expected this, you being a hobbit and all. You’re not so keen on dwarvish courting practices, I suppose.”

“Only because you haven’t explained them to me. You usually give each other weapons as a part of your courting process?” Bilbo asked, skeptically.

“Not always weapons…but items of great worth and often something of their craft. Jewelers usually make rings or jewelry of some kind. I am a blacksmith therefore I forged this weapon for you. It’s useful as well as looking grand.”

“I don’t know about _useful_ ,” Bilbo sighed. “I suppose it certainly looks _grand_.”

“I’ll show you how to use it before we leave.”

Bilbo gave a low displeased hum and Thorin looked irritated.

“Thank you,” Bilbo finally conceded, returning the blade to its sheath. “Can you perhaps put this somewhere that is not our bed?” Bilbo handed the blade back to Thorin.

Thorin took the sheathed blade and placed it on top of the chest at the end of the bed before leaving to wash up for the night. Bilbo sighed and returned to his book, though he couldn’t properly focus any longer. When Thorin got into bed, his hair had been pulled back into a braid and he had changed for the evening. Bilbo put his book down as Thorin got situated in bed, a sour mood still radiating from him.

“Thorin…look, I’m sorry,” Bilbo apologized quietly and Thorin gave a small grunt acknowledging the apology. “I didn’t mean to upset you…it’s…it’s a beautiful blade…”

“I put a lot of thought and time into it, Bilbo,” Thorin explained, still sounding hurt.

“Well, I know _that_ at least,” Bilbo huffed before silently turning to put out the candles on his bedside table. Bilbo lay down in the darkness and tucked his knees to his chest, facing away from Thorin.

“Bilbo,” Thorin called quietly. “What _is_ usual for hobbit courtships?”

“Oh, _now_ you ask.” Bilbo laughed to himself. “Well for one, we usually spend time with one another,” Bilbo answered pointedly.

“I’ve got that, now that it’s been pounded into my head,” Thorin muttered sardonically. “I mean what kinds of gifts do you get one another?”

“Flowers are quite often a popular choice, but there aren’t many gardens around here. Food is the next most common gift, but don’t feel the need to bake me anything. If you isolate yourself in the kitchen until you perfect your baking skills I’ll _never_ see you,” Bilbo explained harshly.

“You know what, never mind,” Thorin hissed.

“Yes, don’t bother. You’ve obviously spent enough time on a gift, don’t you dare get me anything else,” Bilbo spat.

“I’m going to make you a hundred more swords to spite you, you ungrateful hobbit,” Thorin retorted.

“Don’t you dare.” Bilbo kicked out his leg, connecting with Thorin’s shin.

 _“Ouch!_ Bilbo!” Thorin growled.

“You deserve it,” Bilbo muttered.

“I spent hours laboring on a wedding gift and this is the thanks I get,” Thorin grumbled.  

“I _was_ trying to apologize, you oaf!” Bilbo snapped. “You couldn’t just—! Just...I’ve lost enough sleep waiting up for you, I’m going to sleep. Good night.”

“Bilbo,” Thorin muttered.

“ _Good night_ ,” Bilbo hummed.

**x**

When Bilbo woke the next morning he could hear Thorin puttering around in the washroom and the hobbit rubbed his eyes with a miserable groan. He had wretched dreams all night that Thorin was angry with him and refused to marry him because he wouldn’t accept his gift. Now Thorin was about to sneak out without saying good morning and Bilbo didn’t blame him after last night’s arguments. He debated between saying something or just to play dead and pretend to sleep until Thorin left. Bilbo should at least try to apologize again, shouldn’t he? But if Thorin was just going to ignore his apologies and continue to argue…why even bother?

Bilbo felt the bed dip and Thorin settled back into bed.

“You’re not getting up to go?” Bilbo asked sleepily, not bothering to roll over.

“No, I don’t have to be at work early now,” Thorin mumbled.

“Oh,” Bilbo sighed, stifling a yawn. It was quiet for a little bit as they both sat there listening to each other breathe softly in the quiet room.

“Bilbo,” Thorin whispered almost inaudibly. Bilbo felt a small tug on his curls.

“What?” Bilbo groaned finally turning over, trapping Thorin’s hand between the pillow and the hobbit’s head. Despite still feeling a tad upset, Bilbo offered up an apologetic, sleepy smile before moving back and rolling to press a kiss to Thorin’s palm.

“I’m sorry,” Thorin mumbled as he shifted a bit closer.

“You’re the one who went to all that work,” Bilbo sighed. “Won’t you accept my apology?”

“I took this on without consulting you,” Thorin added. “It garners something of an apology on my end.”

“If you consulted me it would have spoiled the surprise,” Bilbo offered a little sarcastically.

“Not much of a surprise when you hated it,” Thorin muttered guiltily.

“I didn’t _hate_ it. Oh, you dwarves can be so overdramatic.” Bilbo yawned again with a small chuckle. “I said I’m sorry. It was a lovely gift, by dwarvish standards anyway,” Bilbo admitted teasingly. “I’ll wear it if it makes you happy…only sometimes though. But I can’t promise I’ll be a proficient swordsman or anything like that.”

“That’s all I can ask of you, _âzyungâl_ ,” Thorin murmured.

“Frodo, on the other hand,” Bilbo sighed. “He’d love to learn how to use a sword now, you know.”

“Hm,” Thorin hummed. “And would you allow him?” Thorin asked.

“I’m not sure,” Bilbo admitted. “I don’t want him thinking he can place himself in danger just because he knows his way around a weapon.”

“The first thing we teach our children about fighting is self-defense and the importance of not always deferring to violence,” Thorin explained. “I can have Fíli and Kíli teach him some things. Since I’ve caught up with my work, Fíli will be returning to the training sessions with Kíli and they can do some separate lessons for Frodo,” Thorn offered. “But they may have to wait for now. I think the two of them were planning a hunting trip this week.”

Before Bilbo could respond there was a timid knock at the door and it swung open with Frodo standing in the doorway.

“Uncle Thorin!” Frodo called excitedly, hurrying inside and scrambling up on the bed. “You’re still here! Are you all right? Are you sick?” Frodo asked, looking terrified. Thorin chuckled as he sat up and pulled Frodo into his arms.

“I’m just fine, Frodo,” Thorin smiled, pressing a kiss to the small hobbit’s forehead. Frodo wrapped his arms around Thorin’s neck.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Frodo mumbled and Bilbo smiled as he gently patted Frodo’s thigh.

“Good morning, Frodo,” Bilbo mumbled and Frodo turned his head, resting it against Thorin’s shoulder and looking down at Bilbo.

“Did you yell at Uncle Thorin and make him stay home this morning?” Frodo whispered to Bilbo and Thorin laughed.

“Yes he did,” Thorin murmured, gently nuzzling against Frodo’s hair. “He yelled at me a lot, though I probably deserved it.” Frodo smiled with quiet laughter.

“I didn’t yell and I didn’t make him do anything.” Bilbo argued, finally pulling himself into a sitting position. “I couldn’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do,” Bilbo chuckled. “If I was able to, he would have been made to stay home a long time ago.”

“Are you going to stay for breakfast?” Frodo asked Thorin.

“Perhaps for first breakfast,” Thorin promised. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

“Oi,” Bilbo rolled his eyes, poking Thorin’s thigh before rolling over and sliding out of bed.

Before long they’d eaten and finished up breakfast and Bilbo saw Thorin out the door, kissing him before he left. Fíli and Kíli had already left for the day and Bilbo returned to the kitchen where only Dís and Frodo remained.

“Remember we have an appointment with the tailor today, Frodo,” Bilbo reminded his nephew as he took his seat back at the table.

“Oh?” Dís seemed curious.

“We’re…erm…getting fitted for what we’re wearing for the wedding,” Bilbo answered quickly.

“Why didn’t you say so?” Dís asked, an excited gleam in her eyes, putting down the dishes she was washing. “What time is your appointment?”

“Just before midday.” Bilbo explained, looking confused as to why she wanted to know.

“I’ll take my lunch early.” Dís decided. “May I come?”

Bilbo blinked a few times before nodding.

“W-Well, yes. I suppose you can.” Bilbo finally confirmed. “I didn’t know you’d be interested. It’s not very exciting.”

“Nonsense,” Dís argued. “Oh, but I should get going. I have a meeting I’m going to be late to.”

**x**

“How did the wedding gift go over?” Dwalin greeted Thorin the moment he entered the shop.

“Oh, shut _up,”_ Thorin groaned, rubbing his eyes. “I think you and Dís were in on this whole thing.”

“We only tried to warn you,” Dwalin chuckled at Thorin’s dismal response.

“I just thought that…” Thorin trailed off and groaned again. “I don’t know. I thought he wasn’t…like a hobbit in that regard. I thought he’d appreciate the craftsmanship if nothing else. You don’t have to be a warrior to appreciate craftsmanship,” Thorin explained.

“Sounds like you’ve got a little more to learn about your hobbit then,” Dwalin suggested. Instead of a response, Thorin just gave an irritated sigh just as Fíli entered the shop.

“Are you just now getting here?” Fíli asked, realizing that Thorin had not yet started his day of work. “Isn’t it…I don’t know, two hours past your usual start for the day?”

“Told you I finished everything I needed to get done. I could afford sleeping in for once,” Thorin contradicted his nephew. “Besides, Frodo asked me to stay for breakfast.”

“Ah, that’s right. What _were_ you working on?” Fíli asked.

“A blade for Bilbo as a wedding gift,” Thorin muttered and folded his arms.

“Oh,” Fíli raised his eyebrows. “ _That’s_ what you spent all that time on? And judging by your tone, I trust he didn’t find it as wonderful as you’d hoped?” Dwalin nodded excitedly to answer Fíli’s question.

“Not as much as I’d hoped,” Thorin muttered, sheepishly.

“He’s a hobbit. _I_ could have told you that.” Fíli stifled a laugh.

“All right, enough. What are you doing here?” Thorin snapped. “I thought you were with Kíli down at the training field.”

“Kíli sent me to have the blades on these axes sharpened before we started.” Fíli lifted one the small axes in his hand before heading over to the sharpening stone. “We’re doing axe throwing practice so they need to be sharp to stick in the targets.” Dwalin offered to help and began to ask more about whatever training regimen was being taught that day before offering to stop by later that morning to help out. Thorin gave a tired sigh as he watched the two work before turning back to his own workbench and setting to work for the day.

**x**

Dís met Bilbo and Frodo at the tailor a few hours later with an excited expression plastered on her face and Bilbo gave her a sheepish smile.

“How was your meeting this morning?” Bilbo greeted her.

“Oh, fine.” Dís shrugged. “Just the usual boring nonsense. Now come on, I want to see what you’ve got planned to wear. It’ll help me decide what Thorin should wear.”

They went into the building and met with the tailor, who eagerly greeted them both. Bilbo hadn’t realized that Dís and the tailor were already close acquaintances and they visited while Bilbo went to try his garments on. He listened to the tailor excitedly talk to Dís about how he’d never had a chance to design clothing like this before and Bilbo raised his eyebrows at his own reflection. The craftsmanship was just as good if not better than the tailor he used back in the Shire. There were still quite a few alterations to be made but it was certainly turning out to be a handsome outfit, Bilbo decided before stepping out of the changing room.

“Oh, Bilbo, you look lovely.” Dís grinned from the short sofa she and Frodo were sitting on and Bilbo blushed. The tailor asked him to stand upon a pedestal for the tailor to get a good vantage point to begin pinning all the alterations left to be made.

“I do feel quite lovely,” Bilbo retorted with a small smile on his face as he admired himself in the full-length mirror he now stood in front of. “It’s been awhile since I had the excuse and the clothing to dress up a little.”

“You’ll make him sorry he’s ever come home late,” Dís teased and Bilbo rolled his eyes.

“What do you think, Frodo?” Bilbo asked as he turned a bit when the tailor asked him to.

“I think you look like you’re going to marry a dwarf,” Frodo answered proudly.

“Well, good. I think that’s what we were intending,” the tailor interjected with a smile.

“Indeed,” Bilbo nodded at his reflection. It wasn’t long before all the pins were put in place and Bilbo was allowed to carefully change back into his other clothing. Frodo was up next and Bilbo went to sit next to Dís on the sofa as the young hobbit went to get changed.

“So, did Thorin give you his wedding gift last night?” Dís asked casually.

“The blade? Yes,” Bilbo responded shortly, as he busied himself with readjusting his clothes.

“You didn’t like it,” Dís observed. Bilbo sighed and shifted uncomfortably.

“It…It isn’t that. It’s just…I’m not a dwarf,” Bilbo explained exasperatedly. “I think he’s forgotten I’m a hobbit or at least that hobbits and dwarves have vastly different tastes.”

“Yet the two of you fell in love,” Dís sighed in a singsong voice and Bilbo’s cheeks flushed.

“W-Well, yes, I suppose…” Bilbo stammered.

“Part of you loves Thorin’s dwarf ways just as he loves your hobbit ways.” Dís shrugged and Bilbo chuckled.

“Yes, but just because I love him for it doesn’t mean I need a weapon as a wedding gift,” Bilbo explained, folding his arms and anxiously biting the inside of his cheek.

“You know, I told him you wouldn’t appreciate it as much as he thought you would,” Dís told the hobbit.

“I…I suppose I  _do_ appreciate the sentiment,” Bilbo admitted.

“He told me he thought you’d appreciate the craftsmanship at least,” Dís hummed.

“Hobbits don’t appreciate craftsmanship unless it’s craftsmanship of food,” Bilbo explained exasperatedly and Dís stifled a laugh. “Though I suppose it was rather impressive.”

“He’s trying at least.” Dís shrugged.

“What do you think, Uncle Bilbo?” Frodo called as he emerged from the changing room with an outfit echoing Bilbo’s own.

“Oh, you look marvelous,” Bilbo smiled.

“And what about you, Aunt Dís?” Frodo turned a bit to show her.

“I think both you and your Uncle Bilbo are going to look very handsome.” Dís smiled proudly at the young hobbit.

It took less time for the tailor to finish with Frodo’s outfit and once they’d finished there at the tailor’s, they bid Dís goodbye for the afternoon and headed home.

“When are we leaving home for the Shire, Uncle Bilbo?” Frodo asked, following Bilbo as they made their way home. His little legs struggled to keep up and finally he reached out to grab for Bilbo’s hand.

“A few weeks,” Bilbo replied, squeezing his nephew’s hand.

“That’s so far away,” Frodo gave a depressed sigh and Bilbo couldn’t help but smile.

“It’ll be here before you know it, just you wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is surviving after seeing Battle of the Five Armies [weak crying]. Once again thank you to everyone who's commented/left kudos/continued reading! I can be found [here on tumblr!](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com) ~*~Come deny the pain of botfa with me~*~


	7. For the Dancing and the Dreaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a brief mention in this chapter and future chapters about the geography of Middle-Earth in this AU and I've decided to change it up a little to match the Nordic Island-esque setting that we have in HTTYD so for anyone who's interested I've drawn up an idea of how I imagine Middle-Earth in this AU [over here on my blog~.](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com/post/107350750638/a-general-idea-of-how-i-imagine-the-map-of) Enjoy the flufftastic chapter! :D

In the remaining weeks until their departure for the Shire, Thorin never arrived home very late and instead made sure to get home early to make up for the weeks he spent working on Bilbo’s sword. Of course, Bilbo was beyond pleased just to have Thorin around at normal times once again.

In this newfound spare time, Thorin taught Bilbo some of the basics of wielding a sword. Using the sword felt strange and unnatural to Bilbo but he began to get the hang of it and hoped it’d be enough to sate Thorin.

One evening when Thorin came home, he found Bilbo and Frodo bent over sheets of parchment, Bilbo scribbling away excitedly.

“What are you two working on?” Thorin asked as he came in and leaned down to kiss the top of Bilbo’s head while gently stroking Bilbo’s ear with his thumb.

“Wedding gift,” Bilbo murmured, finishing the line he was writing.

“I thought we agreed no more wedding gifts.” Thorin raised his eyebrows as he went to put his things down and wash up a little.

“No more on your end, anyway.” Bilbo gave the dwarf a wry smile.

“Wait, what did Uncle Thorin get you?” Frodo asked, looking towards Bilbo.

“Your uncle didn’t tell you all about my disaster of a wedding gift?” Thorin questioned, drying his hands and returning to the table. Frodo shook his head.

“He got me a sword,” Bilbo admitted as his eyes scanned the parchment he’d just been writing on.

“A _sword?”_ Frodo asked unbelievingly with a small giggle. “Why’d you get him a sword for a _wedding gift?”_

“My point exactly.” Bilbo chuckled, glancing at Frodo before turning towards Thorin, tilting his head, and Thorin returned the look with an unamused one.

“I didn’t just get him one, I made him one,” Thorin explained scooping Frodo up and taking the young hobbit’s seat before setting Frodo down on his lap. “Needless to say he wasn’t very pleased with it, not that hobbits would ever be pleased with something of such fine craftsmanship and—”

“Thorin,” Bilbo muttered with an exasperated sigh.

“Anyway, I suppose I should have consulted you, hm?” Thorin smiled, gently combing out a small tangle in Frodo’s hair with his fingers.

“Yes, I think you probably should have,” Bilbo smiled, rubbing his eye.

“All right so what is this gift?” Thorin asked, looking up towards Bilbo and wrapping his arms around Frodo’s middle.

“I wrote us a song,” Bilbo finally revealed.

“A song?” Thorin looked questioningly at the hobbit.

“Well, I do write songs,” Bilbo retorted teasingly.

“Ah, yes and I have quite enjoyed listening to your songs,” Thorin explained, recalling many nights he’d listen to Bilbo and Frodo sing one of his songs. “Well, let’s hear it,” Thorin prompted.

“Not yet,” Bilbo smiled. “I still have to consult Bofur about the tune, he promised he’d help.”

“Hmm,” Thorin hummed. “Soon?”

“Soon,” Bilbo confirmed. “We’ll need enough time to rehearse and I may want some input for some of your lines.”

“Wait, _my_ lines? And _we’re rehearsing?”_ Thorin asked, giving Bilbo a startled look.

“Yes, it’s a duet.” Bilbo licked his lips with a smug grin. “You’ve got a gorgeous voice. I’m putting it to work for me. We can sing it at our wedding.”

“Oh, is that right?” Thorin purred, finally lowering his raised brows. “In that case, I’d be happy to put my voice to work for you.”

“Good.” Bilbo stood and began to organize the parchment they’d been working on to move off the table. “Dís’ll be home soon and I told her I’d start dinner. Perhaps you’d like to help?”

“I suppose this is my reward for getting home before my sister then?” Thorin teased as Bilbo passed him and lightly smacked his shoulder, his fingers lingering on Thorin’s broad back.

“Yes,” Bilbo smiled. “It is most definitely your reward. Frodo, if you wash your hands you can help too.” Bilbo disappeared upstairs to put his things away. Frodo jumped off of Thorin’s lap and hurried over to the kitchen sink where he could hardly reach his arms across to turn the spout on. Thorin gave a sigh and got up to go lift his small hobbit nephew up to reach the sink.

**x**

The last few weeks before their departure to the Shire flew by quickly and soon their day of departure was upon them.

There was a hurried breakfast, last minute packing, and lots of yawns in the early morning before they left to meet the company of dwarves accompanying them to the Shire for their wedding.

Many of them were Thorin’s kinsmen and a few close friends, and Bilbo had gotten to know many of them very well in the months he’d been staying in Ered Luin.

“Thorin, are you sure you have everything?” Dís asked her brother as they congregated by the door.

“Dís, I’ve gone through the checklist at least three times. We have everything,” Bilbo assured her.

“Sorry, I’m just anxious,” Dís admitted as she finally made her way to the front door with the rest of her family.

“You’re anxious?” Thorin laughed, stifling a yawn. “This is _our_ wedding.”

“And I don’t think you’re nearly anxious enough,” Dís mumbled.

“You don’t know how anxious I am. I’m plenty anxious,” Thorin defended himself and Bilbo stifled a giggle.

“Not about the right things. I mean the things…the planning things,” Dís argued sleepily as she waved her hands trying to gesture ‘planning’. “Come on, we’ve got everything. Here, Kíli take that bag.” Dís nodded to a bag sitting by his feet and Kíli gave a groan before picking it up. “Don't whine at me, you won’t have to carry it the whole trip. Besides you need to build some muscle anyway.” Dís finally shouldered her own pack.

“I’ve got plenty of muscle,” Kíli muttered under his breath before catching Frodo laughing quietly at him and Kíli stuck his tongue out at the hobbit. “Besides I think Frodo should carry more to build _his_ muscles,” Kíli teased.

“Oh, you’re going to pass all the heavy bags to Frodo?” Fíli nudged his brother. “Doesn’t seem quite fair does it, Frodo?”

“I’ll carry all the bags so I can have more muscle than both of you!” Frodo reached for the bag Kíli had picked up.

“Ah, ah, there’s no way I’ll let you do that,” Kíli held the bag out of the reach of Frodo’s tiny arms.

“Come on, you two.” Bilbo nudged Frodo and gave a stern glance at Kíli. “We have to get going.”

They shuffled out of their home and towards the grand gates leading out of Ered Luin. The dwarves that were already there and preparing their ponies greeted them with an excited—yet sleepy—cheer.

Soon they were on the road, although traveling was a little slow going compared to their journey several months beforehand. There were many more dwarves on this journey but Bilbo found he enjoyed himself much better this time around. Along with the interesting company of dwarves they travelled with, the weather was much easier to traverse rather than the winter weather that they’d trekked through to get to the Blue Mountains.

Bilbo finally had his own pony, which he was immensely grateful for, despite being apprehensive to learn. Bilbo had decided he’d had enough of sharing a pony even if it was with his soon-to-be husband. Frodo, however, still needed to ride with someone so he took turns between Bilbo, Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, and Dís.

The nights at camp were peaceful and cheerful, and Bilbo enjoyed his time with the company of dwarves accompanying them to the Shire. But he often sought out the blissful silence of the ponies for company. He stuffed an apple from their food stashes into his pocket, hoping that apples were a suitable peace offering to the ponies. Despite having his own pony to ride this time around, Bilbo was still a little nervous around the animals and he hoped that this would help ease the anxious feeling between he and the ponies. Bilbo found his pony, Myrtle, at the outside edge of the small cluster of ponies and he anxiously stroked her muzzle, talking quietly to the pony for a bit. Soon Myrtle discovered the treat that Bilbo had brought her and fought to retrieve the apple out of Bilbo’s pocket.

Bilbo laughed and pulled the apple out of his pocket and complimented the pony on how smart she was as she munched away.

“That’s a good girl,” Bilbo cooed gently. “You must tell no one.” Bilbo made a hushing noise as she finished the apple and began to nuzzle Bilbo in hopes of finding more treats.

“What are you and Myrtle not telling anyone about?” Thorin found Bilbo quietly talking to the ponies.

“Nothing,” Bilbo quickly said, turning to find Thorin.

“Then what are you doing out here?” Thorin chuckled, taking note of Bilbo’s guilty face.

“I was just checking on the ponies,” Bilbo explained hastily. “I was worried about them.”

“Of course you were,” Thorin smiled. “Come back to camp, the ponies will be fine.” Thorin reached for the hobbit’s hand and led them back to camp where the dwarves were congregated around the fire. As they approached Bilbo could hear the middle of a loud conversation.

“No, no! Gimli’s the top of the class, you should see him wield an axe,” Fíli complimented and Gimli flushed.

“Aye, got all of his axe wielding skills from his father,” Gimli’s mother boasted and it was Glóin’s turn to blush.

“And all his fighting spirit from his mother,” Glóin complimented his wife, who chuckled giddily in response, which made Gimli blush harder. “There you are Bilbo,” Glóin commented when Bilbo and Thorin joined them. “Thorin was getting worried.”

"We thought you’d wandered off and possibly got mauled by something,” Bofur chimed in, cheerfully.

“Or that you’d gotten cold feet about marryin’ Thorin,” Nori offered.

“That was only you saying that.” Dori shot his brother an unamused look.

“There was nothing to be worried about and I’m not getting cold feet,” Bilbo sighed as he came to sit next to Frodo, who was curled up next to Dís. “Are there many things out here we could be ‘mauled’ by?” Bilbo asked anxiously, looking at Bofur, which induced a whole new topic of conversation of wildlife encounters.

The few dwarves that often traveled between Ered Luin and Bree shared stories of animals they’d encountered from just spotting them to actually having to defend against them.

“I had to fight off a wolf once.” Thorin pulled his tunic down to reveal a large scar across his chest.

“Oh, that’s what that’s from,” Bilbo raised his eyebrows.

“I’ve told you that story before, I’m sure of it,” Thorin turned to Bilbo as he set his tunic straight again.

“Oh, perhaps,” Bilbo frowned thoughtfully. “Oh, yes, yes. You did.” He nodded and a faint blush spread over his features and Thorin gave him a small smile.

“Good thing you were so close to home and Fíli found you when he did. You could have had a whole pack on you if you’d stayed much longer,” Dís added.

“Will we be attacked by wolves?” Frodo asked quietly.

“There’s no need to worry,” Dís promised the young hobbit. “Not when we travel in numbers such as this. We have dwarves on watch and even the animals know not to attack such a formidable group of dwarves such as this.”

“What about dragons?” Frodo asked. “Do they attack out here?” Frodo aimed the question mostly at Thorin. Bilbo shifted anxiously before snaking his arm around Thorin’s.

“This close to the Shire, all you have to worry about are Terrible Terrors,” Thorin assured him. “And like Aunt Dís said, they wouldn’t bother us with as many dwarves as we have.”

“But what about back at home…I mean, in the mountains?” Frodo asked.

“They know where we live and that many of us have killed many of them, so they usually leave us alone. Besides, many of the fearsome dragons live closer the coasts. It’s much more dangerous out there than it is in the mountains. Or even over the sea past the Misty Mountains…the more dangerous dragons live in the East.”

“Anyway, what’s important is that you’re safe with us, Frodo.” Dís pulled Frodo in against her side. The young hobbit smiled as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Dís’ middle, and Bilbo felt a warm hand close around his own and found Thorin giving him a small smile.

**x**

Bilbo was practically giddy with excitement as they began to pass through the rolling green hills that marked the Far Downs, the borders of the Shire. When they finally reached the familiar sight that was Hobbiton, Bilbo couldn’t feel happier and he wasn’t the only one. Frodo bounced excitedly from his spot in front of Bilbo.

It felt like a lifetime he’d spent away from the Shire and if he didn’t realize the homesickness before, he sure felt it now as the lanterns outside the Green Dragon Inn twinkling in the low light of dusk appeared.  Bilbo could see the hill where Bag-End once had been and he gave a quiet sigh.

“Can we go say hello to Sam and his family?” Frodo asked Bilbo excitedly as if his gaze had turned that way too.

“My goodness, do you ever tire?” Bilbo laughed as they stopped outside the inn.

“Please? It’s not too late,” Frodo pleaded. “If you’re too tired Fíli or Kíli could take me. Or Gimli! Gimli will go with me!” Frodo began to search for the young red-haired dwarf that he’d become good friends with over their journey. “He can meet Sam!”

“Not tonight, Frodo…how about first thing tomorrow morning, all right?” Bilbo helped Frodo down off the pony. “The Gamgees are probably sitting down to dinner, but I promise you I want to see them just as much as you do. Tomorrow, though.”

The next day when they’d gotten up and dressed, Frodo excitedly led Bilbo and Thorin up the hill towards the Gamgee’s home.

Bell opened the door and greeted them warmly before inviting them inside, proclaiming how glad she was to see them.

“We weren’t sure when you’d arrive here in the Shire,” Hamfast greeted them fondly. “I hope your travels went well.”

“Yes, of course,” Bilbo smiled. “Sorry for not giving more of a warning. I hope we’re not intruding, Frodo was just so excited to see Sam.”

They were invited in and they spent the day catching up with each other. The kids were excited to have Frodo back in the Shire, Sam especially. They visited all day and Bilbo helped Bell cook them all lunch.

In the late afternoon they made plans for the Midsummer’s Eve celebration and talked a little more about Midsummer’s Day when Thorin and Bilbo would be wed. But soon the sun was setting and Bilbo called for Frodo to come back to the main room of the Gamgee’s smial to get him ready to go.

“Can we go back tomorrow? How long are we staying again?” Frodo asked, wrapping his arms around Thorin’s neck as he rode on Thorin’s back on their way back to the Green Dragon for dinner with the rest of the dwarves.

“Tomorrow’s Midsummer’s Eve,” Bilbo explained, smiling up at Frodo. “We’ll see the Gamgees at the celebration tomorrow.”

“Wait, is the wedding tomorrow?” Frodo asked, pulling his face away from Thorin’s hair, which was sticking in his mouth.

“No, the wedding is Midsummer’s Day,” Bilbo reminded him. “One more day.”

“Oh,” Frodo nodded, wiggling excitedly on Thorin’s back.

“Frodo,” Thorin huffed with a small chuckle. “Calm down or else I’m going to drop you.”

“No, don’t!” Frodo giggled, squeezing his arms tighter around Thorin’s neck, causing Thorin to make a teasing choking noise and Bilbo to roll his eyes.

**x**

Midsummer’s Eve celebration was well underway by the time they made their way to the Party Tree the next day.

Most of the day was filled with Bilbo having to introduce Thorin and whichever dwarves were around at the time to his hobbit family. Once or twice Bilbo was able to pull Thorin out to dance among the hobbits as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky. As they finished one dance, Thorin led Bilbo away from the mass of hobbits dancing and away from the heart of the party to where it was a little quieter.

“I think I was getting some untoward looks from the hobbits over there,” Thorin nodded over his shoulder before he took up dancing with Bilbo once again. They slowly stepped from side to side as Bilbo pursed his lips, looking back to where a majority of the hobbits were.

“Probably my Baggins side of the family,” Bilbo replied. “Not the happiest about any Baggins doing anything out of the ordinary.”

“Like moving to the mountains and marrying a dwarf?” Thorin asked.

“Like moving to the mountains and marrying a handsome, kind dwarf,” Bilbo nodded with a coy smile, before Thorin leaned down to kiss Bilbo’s lips.

“So if I may ask,” Thorin started as they broke apart. “If your mother was a hobbit of adventure and doing everything out of the ordinary including studying dragons, how was it that your father, a man from a family condoning anything out of the ordinary, met her and fell in love?” Thorin asked, quizzically.

“The right circumstances.” Bilbo beamed proudly. “Not so unlike our own, I do believe. Let’s go sit down a moment, my feet are aching.” Bilbo led them to a place they could sit without being too bothered by anyone else. Once they sat Bilbo took up his tale again.

“They met when they were just out of their tweens — erm, after coming of age. That’s at age thirty-three for hobbits,” Bilbo clarified and Thorin nodded. “And it was just after one of the first times my mother decided to venture out of the Shire on her own. She was one of the remarkable daughters of Old Took and for the Took clan...well they’re a bit more adventurous and unusual and it’s not so peculiar for a Took to go off adventuring like she did.”

Thorin hummed contemplatively with another nod to encourage Bilbo to continue the story.

“She was arriving home from a trip out west, and she’d sprained her ankle and had come down with a fever. My father found her just as he was on his way returning home to Hobbiton from Bywater and she was resting on the side of the road. He could recognize that she wasn’t doing well so he insisted that she was brought back to his home to be tended to before she continued her trek home to the Great Smials in Tuckborough. My mother said she vehemently denied help from him at first but he was stubborn. He wouldn’t leave her wounded and sick on the side of the road so eventually she was persuaded. Of course, my father’s family immediately recognized her as one of the remarkable daughters of Old Took and wasn’t so keen on her adventurous ways, but couldn’t turn her away. After she rested there for a day or two, she headed home  and thanked my father and his family for their kindness. The next time my mother returned from an adventure she stopped by Hobbiton to thank him and his family once again for their kindness. My mother brought him a dragon scale from an abandoned nest she’d encountered as a gift and they began courting. They visited each other often and my mother used to say that he would fret over her whenever she’d tell him she was going off on another adventure. She used to say she’d offer to take him with her all the time and he always refused. Bagginses don’t just go off on adventures,” Bilbo explained sternly. “Of course, the one time she was able to convince him to go was just after they were married and they had me and…” Bilbo trailed off.

“That’s when your father died,” Thorin automatically supplied. Bilbo nodded quietly with a sigh.

“I’m sure the Baggins family talked for years after my father married my mother.” Bilbo shrugged. “Probably blamed her for his death too.”

“I’m sorry, Bilbo,” Thorin murmured. “I didn’t mean to bring up such a topic.”

“It’s not your fault.” Bilbo tried his best to wipe the sorrowful look from his face before standing up and pulling Thorin into a soft kiss. “Now, come. We’ve spent enough time dawdling outside of the party and we should probably find Frodo. Besides, I need to go find some food.”

“Of course you do,” Thorin chuckled quietly as Bilbo took his hand and led him away.

Soon the evening came to an end and Frodo looked tired even though it was obvious he was fighting so hard to stay awake. They’d agreed earlier that Frodo would stay with the Gamgees that evening and they’d reconvene early the next morning to get ready for the wedding. Bilbo had agreed he’d come to the Gamgees to collect Frodo and get both of them ready for the wedding and Thorin would spend the morning with his family down at the Green Dragon. This was mostly decided upon so Thorin and Bilbo wouldn’t have see each other until the time of the wedding. Up until this point, they’d even done a good job of keeping their wedding outfits secret from one another.

“Be good for Mister and Missus Gamgee,” Bilbo said as he tucked Frodo’s curls behind his ears.

“I know, I know!” Frodo giggled, clinging to Sam’s arm. Bilbo solidified the last of the details for tomorrow morning’s schedule with Bell before both he and Thorin returned to the Green Dragon for the evening.

**x**

Warning bells began to toll loudly as dragon roars echoed in the distance and Bilbo woke up in a cold sweat the next day in the dimly lit room as the sun was just beginning to rise. He gasped for air and felt his way towards the nightstand scrambling to pull himself out of bed.

“Bilbo…?” Thorin asked groggily, feeling the disturbance as Bilbo pushed his way out of bed and hearing Bilbo’s distressed noises. “Bilbo, what’s going on?” Thorin asked as Bilbo finally got out of bed.

“Frodo! We…we have to…!” Bilbo exclaimed breathlessly before going silent and taking in his quiet and not-so-chaotic surroundings. Thorin pulled himself out of bed as well and quickly made his way to where Bilbo was catching his breath and swallowing hard. His hands finally found Bilbo’s shaking hands to grasp in his own.

“Bilbo,” Thorin sighed, pulling one of Bilbo’s hands to cup his own face, hoping the gentle touch would help sooth him. Bilbo blinked in the dim room, gently rubbing his fingers against Thorin’s scratchy beard. He gave a shuddering sigh and a small sob.

“N-Nightmare,” Bilbo choked out an explanation. “W-We were back at Bag-End together and I heard the warning bells. I thought I heard dragons attacking the Shire and—and I-I woke up and thought that it was real and remembered Frodo was up at the Gamgee’s. I was so scared I couldn’t get to him in time and he’d be…” Bilbo trailed off, his words being muffled out by quiet sobs. He tried to calm himself down as Thorin gently pulled him into a warm embrace and soothingly rubbed circles on his back

“It’s all right,” Thorin comforted him quietly. “We’re fine. We’re safe, Bilbo.”

“I know,” Bilbo sighed, pulling away and sniffling, taking in a few deep breaths, calming himself. “What a grand way to spend the morning of our wedding…I’ll probably look terrible today after crying like this,” Bilbo huffed as he dried his eyes.

“A few tears shed isn’t so out of place on a wedding day,” Thorin teased him, trying to cheer him up. “You’ll look lovely today. Don’t worry, _ghivashel._ ” Bilbo gave a watery chuckle and said nothing before closing his eyes for a moment and embracing the dwarf again. “Do you want to try to rest a little longer?” Thorin asked.

“I’m…I’m not tired any more,” Bilbo muttered. “But if you need to…” Bilbo conceded. Thorin nodded silently and led Bilbo back over to the bed. Despite what the hobbit said, Thorin was determined to get Bilbo to rest a little longer before having to get ready for the long day ahead of them. Once Bilbo was settled back into their bed, Thorin was quick to accompany him, wrapping himself around Bilbo.

They laid quietly and talked to each other about the wedding and who would be there and who Thorin hadn’t been introduced to yet and what the day’s schedule would be as a means of distracting Bilbo. Thorin dozed off a little, yet Bilbo stayed awake, clutching Thorin’s hand and gently rubbing his thumb along Thorin’s knuckles. His mind continued to swirl with the thought of what would have happened if the bells he thought he had heard were real. The thoughts churned his stomach unpleasantly and instead he tried to focus on the exciting day ahead of him.

Soon Thorin woke again and eventually they were both up and getting dressed and ready to begin the day.

“Will you do my braid?” Bilbo asked as he finished buttoning his plain cotton shirt. Thorin looked up and nodded as Bilbo came and sat next to the dwarf and Thorin set to work on the braid. “You think your bead will hold in my hair?” Bilbo asked quietly as Thorin worked.

“Don’t worry,” Thorin murmured as he concentrated on making sure the braid was just right. Bilbo gave a small smile and wondered how the dwarvish bead would look in his hair, a faint blush filling his cheeks as they sat in silence for a little while as Thorin worked.

“Bilbo…before today,” Thorin started nervously as he finished off Bilbo’s braid.

“Yes?” Bilbo asked anxiously.

“I have something to give you.” Thorin got up and went to one of his bags before pulling out a thin steel box.

“Thorin, I appreciate it but I thought we agreed any more wedding gifts were not a good idea,” Bilbo sighed.

“No, I’m…still trying to make up for that.” Thorin explained apologetically. “Let me at least try,” Thorin pleaded when he saw Bilbo’s cautious look.  

Bilbo carefully took the box Thorin offered him and opened it and raised his eyebrows.

“I know you said something about flowers and…well, Frodo—I consulted Frodo this time,” Thorin explained incredulously as if trying to make excuses for this gift. “He said something about hobbits wearing flowers in their hair on their wedding day?” Thorin continued to sound unsure.

“Yes, that is correct.” Bilbo chuckled quietly as he picked up the gift out of the box. It was a beautiful silver circlet adorned with small silver flowers and leaves. “And you made this as well?”

“Yes,” Thorin nodded, still looking anxiously at Bilbo.

“I’m impressed you found the time,” Bilbo teased him. “You didn’t have many late nights after making the sword for me.”

“I may have pushed a bit of my work onto Dwalin to complete this,” Thorin admitted sheepishly. “But I already promised I’d make it up for him.” Thorin carefully lifted the gift out of Bilbo’s hands and gently placed it on Bilbo’s head, with a pleased look on his face. The hobbit reached up to feel for the circlet. “I was thinking you could wear this today,” Thorin explained nervously. “If you wanted to.”

“Of course I’ll wear it,” Bilbo smiled broadly. “This is a much more suitable wedding gift.” Bilbo chuckled as he gently took the circlet off to examine the gift. “It’s perfect,” Bilbo grinned, gently putting the circlet back in its protective box. He pulled Thorin in for a kiss and wrapped his arms around the dwarf’s neck and deepened the kiss a little more than Thorin had expected. The dwarf raised his eyebrows at Bilbo’s eagerness to show his gratitude as they finally parted.

“Frodo and the Gamgees are going to wonder where you’re at,” Thorin murmured, before reaching forward for another quick peck on the lips.  

“It’s my wedding day. I should think I could take as much time as I please,” Bilbo argued, pulling Thorin in for another lengthy kiss. “But I suppose I should get going,” Bilbo sighed as they parted once more.

“Don’t forget this.” Thorin handed the box with Bilbo’s flower circlet inside to the hobbit. Bilbo packed it in the basket that contained his and Frodo’s outfits for the wedding and made sure they remained hidden while he stashed the gift box away.

Thorin walked him outside of the inn to see him off and kissed him goodbye for the time being.

“Next time we kiss we’ll be married,” Bilbo reminded Thorin, who blushed at the thought and fought off the urge to kiss Bilbo again.

“I’ll see you then,” Thorin smiled sleepily as Bilbo gave one last broad smile before heading off in the direction of the Gamgee’s. Thorin remained outside to watch as Bilbo went on his way. Bilbo looked over his shoulder once or twice to catch Thorin watching him and eventually the hobbit completely disappeared from sight behind a hill and Thorin sighed happily to himself.

Thorin stayed outside a little longer to watch as the Shire sleepily began to wake and prepare for that days celebration.

He eventually felt a hand grip his shoulder and turned to find his sister. Her hair spilled over her shoulders with no obvious attempts to tame it yet that morning and she smiled at him sleepily.

“Hello,” Thorin greeted her warmly as she linked his arm in hers.

“We’ve got breakfast inside,” Dís offered. “I thought Bilbo would have joined us for at least a bite.”

“He wanted to get up to the Gamgee’s pretty early,” Thorin explained and Dís gave an understanding hum.

“So, are you nervous yet?” Dís asked curiously with a sly smile on her face.

“I told you I’ve always been nervous,” Thorin muttered. “I’ve never been to a hobbit wedding before.” Thorin shrugged. “Let alone been a part of one. Bilbo said there’s a few words said and we say our bit then we sign the paperwork and it’s done,” Thorin explained.

“You really have nothing to worry about,” Dís gave her brother a supportive smile.

“…Paperwork.” Thorin scoffed. “These hobbits are so bizarre with their necessity to have paperwork drawn up to state that they love one another.”

“Bilbo told me they do it for legal reasons but said that it’s really just for show for you two since you won’t be living here, therefore leaving the paperwork technically void.” Dís shrugged. “Now come inside. You should get a good meal in you before today and you better hurry. Fíli and Kíli were just challenged by Ori and Gimli to an eating contest and soon there’ll be nothing left for you to eat.”

“How can they be so troublesome so early in the morning?” Thorin groaned as he followed his sister inside.

**x**

The dwarves were soon put to work by the hobbits who were beginning to clean up last night’s celebration and starting to set up for that day’s festivities in the large area by the party tree while Thorin visited anxiously with several of Bilbo’s cousins that he had met the night before.

Soon Dís appeared, her long dark hair and braids pulled up into a ponytail with a borrowed pastel-yellow apron with frills tied around her waist and Thorin grinned at her.

“Stop smiling like that,” Dís muttered.

“It’s my wedding day,” Thorin gave a fake pout to his sister as he tried to quietly slip out of the hobbits’ conversation about the other weddings they’d attended.

“There are some very important hobbits here to see you.” Dís wiped her hands on the apron after putting the crate of apples she had been carrying down.

“Is something wrong? Is it about Bilbo? Is it about the wedding? It isn’t time for the wedding yet is it?” Thorin asked in a panic, turning to his sister.

“Calm down,” Dís laughed. “They have something for you.” Dís gestured over her shoulder to where a small grouping of hobbit children were hurrying over. “Besides, the wedding isn’t for another hour and a half,” Dís assured him.

The children approached and Thorin spotted Frodo among them, with Sam at his side like usual. Both boys were still in their usual garb, not yet dressed for the wedding. The two Gamgee girls had on nice frocks and Thorin guessed they were already dressed for that day.

“What are you all doing?” Thorin asked as the children reached him.

“We came to braid these flowers into your hair!” May, the youngest Gamgee girl, exclaimed as she held up her basket filled with flowers.

“Oh?” Thorin raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

“Please, Mister Thorin,” May pleaded. “It’s a hobbit wedding tradition!”

“We’ve already put flowers in Mister Bilbo’s hair,” Daisy explained, her fingers toying with the silk ribbon on her dress. “Along with the pretty flower tiara you made him.”

“It’s a circlet,” Thorin clarified nervously. “And do _both_ of us really have to wear flowers?” Thorin folded his arms.

“Yes! I know this isn’t quite your dwarvish tradition but Uncle Bilbo has flowers in his hair and he’ll appreciate it if you have flowers in yours! I promise!” Frodo finally piped up. Thorin looked helplessly to Dís who only smiled and shrugged. Thorin sighed in defeat.

“If it’ll make Bilbo happy,” Thorin conceded and found a grassy patch out of the way of the bustling hobbits. He sat down so the girls could reach his hair easier and they set to work. Sam sat down next to his sisters’ basket of flowers and began to interestedly look through the different flowers that had been gathered while Frodo smiled proudly at Thorin.

“You look quite pleased with yourself,” Thorin remarked and Frodo smiled with a nod. “Come here,” Thorin motioned for the young hobbit to join him. Frodo hurried over, and Thorin pulled Frodo into his lap and ran his fingers through the hobbit’s curly hair.

“So you aren’t already dressed for the wedding?” Thorin questioned the young hobbit, scrutinizing what he was wearing.

“No, not yet. Uncle Bilbo thinks I’m going to ruin it if I get dressed too soon. He thinks I’ll spill on myself or something,” Frodo sighed, pulling at the grass near his feet.

“How _is_ your Uncle Bilbo doing this morning?” Thorin asked as he set to work putting a small braid in Frodo’s hair.

“He’s really stressed,” Frodo chuckled.

“Is he?” Thorin asked. Other than the nightmare that morning Bilbo hadn’t seemed all that frazzled.

“I think it’s cause not all of our family likes that you’re a dwarf,” Frodo continued. Thorin hummed contemplatively, remembering their conversation the night before. “And you’re getting married to him with that family here. But it doesn’t matter, does it? You love each other,” Frodo explained seriously and Thorin chuckled.

“Yes, we do. It’ll take more than a few displeased hobbits to keep your uncle and I apart.” Thorin smiled as he finished off the braid. “There you are.” Thorin gave a small tug to the braid in Frodo’s hair before leaning down and kissing Frodo’s temple.

“Hey,” Frodo giggled. “No kissing until after the wedding!”

“I think that only applies to Bilbo and I, you ridiculous hobbit.” Thorin smiled broadly down at Frodo, before thinking of the soft kisses he and Bilbo had shared that morning. “Now, how about your own flowers?” Thorin asked. “Sam, why don’t you pick out a few flowers for Frodo’s hair,” Thorin suggested, turning to Sam who was still looking through the basket of flowers. Sam perked up and looked more than happy to oblige, and Sam and May helped Thorin weave a few small flowers in Frodo’s hair as Daisy finished adorning Thorin’s own hair with the same flowers.

“All right, now that we’re done here with the flowers, hurry back to your uncle and finish getting ready and I’ll see you back here.”

**x**

It was noon of Midsummer’s Eve day beneath the party tree that they were married. There were gorgeous streamers hung from its branches and Bilbo and Thorin stood beneath.

Thorin’s face was completely flushed upon the sight of the hobbit he was marrying. Bilbo’s silver circlet shone in the bright summer sunlight and the Gamgee’s girls had woven the real flowers into Bilbo’s hair as well. The hobbit wore a gorgeous geometrically-patterned silver vest with a midnight blue overcoat. Thorin couldn’t help but laugh at how well it suited him. It matched up to what Thorin had seen of usual hobbit garb while still maintaining a dwarvish feel. Frodo had a similar outfit and escorted Bilbo to meet Thorin beneath the tree. The dwarf reached out to take Bilbo’s hands with an ecstatic smile on his face, and before he could stop himself, he lifted the hobbit’s hands to his lips to kiss his knuckles. Bilbo gave a few high-pitched giggles and Thorin wasn’t sure if it was nerves or if it was the sight of Thorin in his own dwarvish garb accented by the flowers woven into his hair.

The Thain of the Shire, Fortinbras Took II, was the one who ordained the ceremony. Bilbo had at first been hesitant to request his services as Thain, but he was one of Bilbo’s Took cousins and he was more than happy to be a part the ceremony, regardless of whom Bilbo was marrying.

Fortinbras called the ceremony to order before saying a few words about binding the the couple together on such a beautiful Midsummers Day. Bilbo and Thorin exchanged their heartfelt vows through misty eyes and broad smiles, and at the end of the ceremony Thorin produced two small beads from his pockets.

“I only have one braid.” Bilbo’s hand consciously went up to feel the braid Thorin had done for him much earlier that morning.

“I know,” Thorin said as he secured the first bead in Bilbo’s hair. “The second,” Thorin finished putting the bead at the end of the braid, “will go to Frodo.” Thorin leaned down to Frodo who looked surprised and confused. “You’re a part of my family now, too,” Thorin explained softly. “All of our beads are similar.” Thorin showed off his beads that dangled from his own two braids. “We’re all _officially_ a family now.” Frodo looked so ecstatic as he grinned up between Thorin and Bilbo. Bilbo returned the grin before broadly smiling at his dwarf, blinking away more tears that threatened to escape.

They signed the paperwork, ordaining them as officially married, and as soon as they finished signing, they turned and kissed each other. It wasn’t a long kiss, as both of them were smiling too much for that and Bilbo felt no need to embarrass themselves any more in front of his family.

The crowd around them cheered for the newly married couple and once Bilbo had thanked them for sharing this occasion with them, the hobbits began to disperse in search of the food that was being served.

“That wasn’t so bad now, hm?” Bilbo asked as the hobbits cleared out.

“No, not at all.” Thorin leaned down once again and gave Bilbo a lingering kiss.

Bilbo and Thorin spent some time alone sitting beneath the party tree, watching the celebration around them. Their hands were clasped and Bilbo leaned against Thorin’s shoulder. Frodo had hurried off to enjoy the festivities with Sam and his siblings along with Fíli and Kíli, letting Thorin and Bilbo have a few quiet moments together.

“You’re going to damage your flowers,” Thorin chuckled as he felt the hobbit adjust his head on his shoulder. Bilbo had taken off the circlet but had obviously forgotten about the real flowers in his hair as well. Bilbo sat up a bit and felt for the flowers.

“Oh,” Bilbo patted them. “I wanted to save them,” Bilbo explained sheepishly.

“Bilbo, they’re not going to last. They’ll wilt soon, won’t they?” Thorin frowned. “Unless there’s some hobbit flower magic I don’t know about.”

“No,” Bilbo laughed. “No hobbit flower magic. They won’t last the night,” Bilbo confirmed. “But if you press them you can preserve them and keep them forever.”

“You hobbits,” Thorin sighed with a pleased smile.

“I still have…” Bilbo’s voice quickly died in his throat. “Well, I _used_ to have the pressed flowers from my mother and father’s wedding,” Bilbo quickly corrected himself. They were quiet for a moment before Thorin spoke up.

“So how _do_ we go about preserving them to be pressed?” Thorin asked softly. Bilbo stood up and found the discarded basket the Gamgee girls had used for the flowers and brought it back over to where they were sitting. He reached up and began untangling the flowers from Thorin’s hair. Soon Thorin was gently pulling the flowers out of Bilbo’s hair as the hobbit sat and gently stroked the small petals of the flowers on his circlet.

They brought the flowers to Bell, who was sitting with a few other hobbit girls showing them how to press flowers as a part of the Midsummer’s Day festivities.

“I’m sorry, I meant to fetch you before we got started but I didn’t want to interrupt,” Bell apologized. “I did bring all my materials for flower pressing specifically for this occasion.”

They spent the warm afternoon pressing the flowers. Thorin looked completely out of his element as he sat and timidly placed flowers on the loose parchment that would be placed between the wood blocks.

Pressing the flowers brought back fond memories to Bilbo who remembered sitting in the garden as a child and choosing flowers to press between the pages of his father’s books.

Soon Dís made her way over to where they were working with a big plate of food and Bilbo’s stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten something since Elevenses.

“I got this for you, Bilbo,” Dís offered the plate of food she’d carried over. “Thorin too if he wants, but I know you must be hungry.”

“I’m famished actually,” Bilbo replied gratefully. Thorin picked a bite or two off the plate but Bilbo was quick to consume nearly everything and let out a content sigh.

Soon the sun began to go down and the lanterns were starting to be lit.

Bilbo missed the fireworks they used to have on Midsummer’s Eve when he was a child. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind until the sky went dark. But the thought was quickly pushed from his mind as more food was being brought out and hobbit musicians began to play their music.

“Well, I suppose it’s about time. Are you ready?” Bilbo asked, smiling up at Thorin. The dwarf gave him a broad smile and nodded.

They both took to the dance floor and the other hobbits cleared to let the couple lead the dancing. The dwarf musicians sidled in with the hobbit ones and they looked confused and a bit alarmed by the sudden appearance of the dwarves. They took up their instruments and began the intro to their song. They’d had plenty of practice the past few weeks, between Thorin sweeping Bilbo into an impromptu rehearsal of the dance steps while Bilbo cooked in the kitchen or singing the song softly when they were getting ready for bed. Thorin’s part was first and he took a breath before starting his verse.

 _I’ll swim and sail on savage seas_   
_with ne'er a fear of drowning._   
_And gladly ride the waves of life_   
_if you will marry me._

 _No scorching sun, nor freezing cold_   
_will stop me on my journey_   
_If you will promise me your heart._   
_And love me for eternity._

Bilbo breathed in and began to sing his part:

 _My dearest one, my darling dear,_   
_your mighty words astound me._   
_But I’ve no need of mighty deeds_   
_when I feel your arms around me._

Then Thorin’s reply:

 _But I would bring you rings of gold,_   
_I'd even sing you poetry!_   
_And I would keep you from all harm_   
_if you would stay beside me!_

Bilbo smiled, singing:

 _I have no use for rings of gold,_   
_I care not for your poetry._   
_I only want your hand to hold..._

Thorin chimed in:

_I only want you near me!_

And then both of them began signing in sync:

 _To love and kiss, to sweetly hold!_   
_For the dancing and the dreaming!_   
_Through all life’s sorrows and delights,_   
_I’ll keep your love inside me!_

 _I’ll swim and sail on savage seas_   
_with ne'er a fear of drowning!_   
_And gladly ride the waves of life_   
_If you will marry me!_

They fought to catch their breath before Thorin pulled the hobbit in for a gentle kiss. As they kissed, the musicians started another melody and eventually they broke apart as a few other hobbit couples moved to the dance floor. Bilbo fought off more giggles as Thorin leaned down to kiss him again.

“I love you,” Thorin murmured as he nuzzled his nose against Bilbo’s. Bilbo chuckled quietly as Thorin rested his forehead against his own.

“I love you too, husband, dear,” Bilbo cooed teasingly and Thorin grinned broadly before standing straight.

“I still am nearly in a state of disbelief,” Thorin admitted as they began to sway back and forth, the other hobbits dancing joyously around them.

“As am I,” Bilbo admitted with a coy smile. “Seems impossible to be married to a dwarf,” Bilbo teased and Thorin gave him a sly smile.

Soon they moved off the dance floor to find a place to rest and for Bilbo to find more food.

The night passed quickly and the hobbits celebrated Midsummer’s Day well into the night. The younger hobbits began to crash as the moon rose higher in the sky.  

The Gamgees had agreed to take Frodo for the evening once again, and Bilbo and Thorin stayed a little longer to enjoy one last pint with some of Bilbo’s Took relatives before heading back to their room at the Green Dragon. Throughout the evening, Bilbo’s hand subconsciously kept going up to find the bead Thorin had secured in his hair, and he hummed happily as Thorin’s fingers twined with his own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO MUCH CHEESE I KNOW. But I had to get that song in there since it was the inspiration for this whole fic ;DD And...this is about the height of the fluff for a little while...so....brace yourselves.
> 
> ((ALSO, I really wanted to include rings for the wedding just to make the joke of ‘Frodo as ring-bearer at their wedding’ but we really have no contextual clues about rings being used for either hobbits or dwarves [the sketches of married hobbit women in the art books for example show no rings] and I do I feel like it’d be more of a dwarf thing, but I can see beads for hair/beards would be more of a cultural norm. Ah, well. The thought was there. )) 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who has continued to read/left kudos/commented/liked/reblogged! Shout out again to my wonderful beta [Kate](bungobaggins.tumblr.com) (cause I realize I haven't mentioned it in a couple chapters and everyone needs reminding how absolutely wonderful she's been to help me out~)


	8. Four Years Later

Four years had now passed since their Midsummer’s Day wedding. Life continued on pleasantly there in the Blue Mountains and Bilbo found he was the most content he’d ever felt in his entire life. There’d been several more trips back and forth between Ered Luin and the Shire but Bilbo was glad for his life among the dwarves.

As was Frodo. Now that Frodo had grown a little Bilbo finally let Fíli and Kíli train Frodo in the basics of weaponry and defense. Thorin had finally convinced him once he’d made the point that every other child in the Blue Mountains—while they all would eventually grow to have many different crafts—were well versed with weapons by the time they reached adulthood and that it was only fair that Frodo had the same chance. The young hobbit was excited by the news and eagerly learned under his dwarf cousins’ tutelage.

Bilbo had finally begun to fit in among the dwarves, helping both Thorin and Dís take on the responsibilities of keeping Ered Luin in order. As nervous as he was to find out how important Thorin’s family was to the settlement of dwarves, Bilbo slid into his new duties easily enough and he got along with nearly everyone.

Thorin still worked tirelessly to provide such a modest life for them and his people, and every once in a while he’d become caught up in his work. Luckily by this point, Bilbo understood the stresses of what being a caretaker to the dwarves in the Blue Mountains entailed as well as keeping up his blacksmithing business.

One of these late evenings, Thorin finally made his appearance at the door and Bilbo looked up from his book.

“There you are,” Bilbo smiled gently.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” Thorin apologized, shucking his outer layers and boots. “I left the forges early but got caught by a dwarf who wanted me to approve something I didn’t really need to approve. I tried to explain and he just wouldn’t hear it until I had heard his entire speech. Honestly, too many people depend on me for things, you’d think they wouldn’t know how to breathe without me there to help them along.”

“That bad?” Bilbo asked sympathetically as he put his book aside. Thorin groaned and nodded.

“Today was one mess after another. It was awful,” Thorin explained, running a hand through his hair after undoing the loose tie he had it in.

“Come here.” Bilbo patted the blankets and Thorin crawled onto the bed beside him. Thorin wrapped his arms around Bilbo’s torso and rested his head on Bilbo’s stomach. The hobbit gently stroked Thorin’s hair. “Frodo was going to try and wait up for you,” Bilbo told Thorin softly.

“I checked in on him when I came in,” Thorin murmured against the soft fabric of Bilbo’s tunic.

“Mm, I figured,” Bilbo sighed.

“He was fast asleep with a candle still burning. I put his book away and tucked him in,” Thorin explained quietly as he shifted to lay his head against the hobbit’s chest, quietly listening to his heart beat persistently.

Bilbo tucked a strand of Thorin’s hair behind his large round ear as the dwarf sat up a bit. Thorin pushed himself closer and Bilbo watched the dwarf through half-lidded eyes as Thorin leaned in to kiss him. The hobbit chuckled against Thorin’s lips and their kiss deepened, but it was slow and leisurely. The dwarf brought his hand up to cradle Bilbo’s face as he straddled the hobbit’s hips. They finally parted and Thorin nuzzled Bilbo’s nose with his own and Bilbo smiled sleepily.

“Tomorrow will be better,” Bilbo promised as his fingers gently continued combing through Thorin’s hair. “All right? Get some good rest tonight.”

“I love you,” Thorin breathed.

“I love you, too, Thorin.” Bilbo smiled. “Though you smell like the forges, dear.”

“I’m sorry.” Thorin rolled off of Bilbo. “I’ll go wash up.”

“Thank you,” Bilbo chuckled, rolling his eyes as he picked up his book once more. Finally Thorin returned to bed smelling much nicer than before. Thorin slipped under the cover of the blankets before turning to put out the candle beside his bed. Bilbo read for a few moments more before finding a good stopping point and putting the book away. He put out the candle on his side of the bed, enveloping the room in darkness with only the sound of the blankets shifting to fill the room.

Thorin snuggled against Bilbo, pulling the hobbit against his chest.

“Oh, I’ve got an appointment with Bofur in the mines tomorrow,” Thorin mumbled through the darkness. “Would you like to come with me? Fíli and Kíli can keep an eye on Frodo tomorrow.”

“How far into the mines do we have to go?” Bilbo asked quietly, tucking himself against the dwarf.

“We’re meeting him outside. We shouldn’t have to travel too far into the mines,” Thorin explained.

“Okay,” Bilbo sighed, situating his pillow. “That would be fun…I haven’t seen Bofur in a while. It’ll be a nice chance to visit.”

Bilbo felt Thorin’s hand slide underneath his shirt and his rough hands trailed across the hobbit’s soft stomach. Bilbo smiled to himself, enjoying Thorin’s touch. It always felt so marvelous to have the dwarf’s rough large hands touch him so gently and lovingly. In fact, it was one of his favorite things about Thorin…how gentle he could seem for such a burly outward appearance.

“Goodnight, Thorin,” Bilbo finally mumbled.

“Goodnight, _ghivashel_ ,” Thorin sighed in response.

**x**

The next morning they took a leisurely breakfast before leaving for the day. It was quiet except for Dís quietly muttering to herself about things she needed to do that day and Bilbo could feel Thorin’s hand on his thigh for most of the meal.

“Surprised Frodo isn’t up yet,” Dís remarked finally.

“Fíli and Kíli already gone for the day?” Bilbo asked.

“Yes, they were out the door before I was even dressed.” Dís waved her hand dismissively. “Surprised Fíli could drag Kíli out the door so early.”

“Shame. I was going to send Frodo with them today while Bilbo and I go to meet Bofur,” Thorin explained.

“Maybe Frodo went with them if he isn’t already up,” Bilbo suggested, silently hoping that wasn’t the case. He hated when Frodo snuck off with the younger dwarves without checking in with at least one of them. There’d been more than one instance in the past few years when this had happened and more often than not one of them would get hurt or get themselves into trouble.

“No, I thought I heard him up when we came down,” Thorin frowned. As if on cue they heard Frodo on the stairs.

“Hold on, where are you hurrying off to?” Bilbo asked sleepily as Frodo appeared already dressed and heading towards the door.

“Gimli promised he’d show me how to wield an axe today!” Frodo responded excitedly. “I’m headed towards the training grounds!”  

“Frodo, wait,” Thorin called the young hobbit back.

“What,” Frodo groaned with a small pout.

“Are Fíli and Kíli going to be there?” Thorin asked.

“Kíli said he’d be there,” Frodo impatiently bounced in place. “We’re going to get an archery lesson too!”

“Are you not going to at least have breakfast, you impatient thing?” Bilbo questioned. Frodo sighed and sat down at the table, reaching for a few bacon strips and some eggs and ate them as quickly as he could. “Slow down,” Bilbo muttered. “I swear, every year you turn more and more into a dwarf.”

“I feel like I should be insulted,” Thorin chuckled as he continued to eat his own breakfast. Bilbo rolled his eyes as Frodo polished off the last of his eggs and jumped up.

“Can I go now?” Frodo asked.

“All right, as long as one of them is there to supervise, I suppose,” Bilbo gave in. “I just wish they were here to escort you there.”

“Uncle Bilbo, I’m thirteen now. I can go places by myself,” Frodo huffed, putting his hands on his hips, and Thorin chuckled, thinking of how much Frodo reminded him of Bilbo.

“You know, at age thirteen for dwarves you’re still considered a babe, practically.” Dís sipped at her tea, unimpressed. Frodo groaned at his aunt.

“Hobbits aren’t much different,” Bilbo muttered, which made Frodo give another frustrated noise. “You’re still very young, Frodo. If we still lived in the Shire I might be little more lenient, but as it is...”

“He’ll be fine. No one will bother him. Just make sure you go straight to the training grounds and find Kíli. Have him bring you home at lunch, Bilbo and I will be done by that point and we can eat together,” Thorin offered.

“Thank you, Uncle Thorin!” Frodo beamed. “I have knife throwing practice with Fíli later too,” Frodo told them.

“Just be careful, Frodo,” Bilbo sighed.

“I will!” Frodo agreed. Bilbo sighed as the door closed behind Frodo.

“What are you doing, trying to be favorite uncle?” Bilbo muttered, his knee nudging Thorin’s.

“I would never dream of stealing that title from you,” Thorin chuckled, his hand going to gently squeeze Bilbo’s thigh.

“Bilbo, I know he worries us but he’ll really be fine,” Dís assured the hobbit.

“You have to let him grow up at some point,” Thorin added.

“Yes, but usually hobbits growing up usually doesn’t include _weapons training_.” Bilbo pushed his eggs around on his plate.

“Ah, a consequence of living among us dwarves, I’m afraid,” Thorin teased with a mocking shrug.

“Yes, I don’t think Frodo would want to pick up an axe if we still lived in the Shire,” Bilbo shrugged, finally scooping up the last bits of egg to eat. “What time do we have to meet Bofur?” Bilbo asked, turning back to Thorin.

Soon they were on their way, hand in hand, towards the mines for their appointment with Bofur. The miner greeted them jovially, excitedly smiling at Bilbo before exchanging pleasantries with the hobbit.

Bofur and Thorin were quick to delve into business and Bilbo followed them, listening intently to their discussion of the mining processes and which equipment needed mending. Bilbo asked a few questions trying to understand the issues Bofur brought up, in case he could offer suggestions or assistance in any possible way.

They began to wrap up their meeting as their conversation slowly slipped from the business of mining to more personal matters and asking after family members, and promises of seeing each other more often were made.

As they laughed about something Bofur said, the entire mountain shook and there was a loud noise from somewhere outside the mountain. Bilbo flinched, reaching for Thorin’s hand to calm himself. A loud roar echoed in the distance.

“Wh-What on earth?” Thorin gasped.

“It…It almost sounded like a dragon,” Bofur suggested.

“How can a dragon be causing so much commotion? I didn’t think the dragons could...you know…attack this place.” Bilbo looked confused.

“They usually can’t. They usually _won’t,”_ Bofur assured Bilbo. “Maybe it’s down by the training field?”

“It’s too big a sound and seems to be coming from outside the mountain. We should probably go investigate.” Thorin nodded to Bofur, who tightened his grip on his mattock and nodded. “Bilbo, go and find Frodo and make sure he’s safe. I’ll be home as soon as we’re done making sure everything’s all right. Keep Frodo with you at all times. Fíli and Kíli too, if you find them.”

“Wait, Thorin what’s happening?” Bilbo muttered, anxiously.

“I’m not sure but it doesn’t sound good,” Thorin replied. “It’ll be okay, Bilbo.”

The hobbit nodded numbly as he watched Bofur and Thorin hurry out of the mines. Bilbo’s stomach twisted anxiously as he quickly made his way down to the training field to find Frodo and get him somewhere safe. His mind buzzed, trying to think where the safest place would be. Would it be at home? Or should he and Frodo stay at the training field? Surely if the iron cage could hold in the dragons, they’d hold dragons out as well. Bilbo didn’t like the idea of hiding in that terrifying looking arena but it might be their best bet.

When Bilbo arrived at the training field, it was empty and there was no one there. His heart rate nearly doubled as he cried for Frodo or any other dwarves that might have known where Frodo might be.

 _“Frodo!”_ Bilbo screamed. There was no response and Bilbo wondered if Frodo had already returned home for lunch. Hopefully Kíli was with him at the very least. Bilbo hurried back the way he’d came, and made a turn to make his way back towards their house. There was more loud noises from outside the mountain that sounded dangerously close. There was cracking and crashing and screams from dwarves off in the distance. He knew whatever was outside was beginning to push its way into the mountain and it chilled Bilbo’s blood. The only possibility was a large group of dragons pushing their way into the mountain, but why would they? _What on earth was happening?_

 _Please be at home,_ Bilbo prayed silently in his mind. There was more crashing and Bilbo turned to see not an army of dragons, but one enormous dragon in the distance crashing through into the city. Its red scales reflected in the sunlight streaming into the mountain from where the dragon had burst through. Even from this distance Bilbo noticed its eyes nearly glowed with an orange light and its chest smoldered like dying embers.

“Wh—No, no, no, no,” Bilbo chanted softly to himself as he continued to run. Even from this distance the dragon looked massive. Much bigger than any dragon Bilbo had ever known. Not even his mother’s journal had identified any dragon _that_ large. It looked as if it could take out the entirety of the dwarven settlement in Ered Luin and Bilbo couldn’t even identify it.

Finally arriving home he burst inside, Bilbo shouted for anyone who might have been home, only to be greeted with no response, once again.

“Please, Frodo, no. Don’t do this to me,” Bilbo whispered frantically. The hobbit ran to his and Thorin’s room and grabbed the blade Thorin had crafted for him for their wedding. He knew it wasn’t a proper defense against _any dragon_ but better to have that than nothing.

He had to find Dís or Fíli and Kíli. They must have Frodo. Carefully trying to avoid getting anywhere near the dragon’s path, he hurried through the streets that were now in total pandemonium. Surely the dwarves were equipped to deal with a dragon like this, weren’t they? _Or were they?_

Now there were other dragons flying overhead, Nadders and Nightmares and dragons Bilbo couldn’t even identify. His eyes searched for any sign of his family, his heart rate increasing, fearing the worst already.

A Zippleback flew dangerously close overhead and Bilbo could hear the click and spark of the one head igniting the gas from the other. His hand went to grip his shortsword in case it could be the one thing standing between him and a dangerous dragon.

There were distant battle cries and Bilbo wondered if Thorin’s voice was among them. He was already beginning to feel an immense sense of dread, thinking that any one of his friends or family could be dead right now.

Bilbo shook the anxious feeling and tried to push those miserable thoughts from his mind. At long last he spotted Dís wielding a large ax as she helped take down a Monstrous Nightmare that had been caught in razor netting slung from a catapult. She gave a relieved gasp as her eyes landed on him.

“Bilbo!” Dís cried.

“Dís! Have you seen Frodo?” Bilbo breathed, trying to catch his breath.

“No! Where’s Thorin? Where are Fíli and Kíli?” Dís asked, a terrified look gripping her face and Bilbo shook his head desperately. “Bilbo, get to safety _now,”_ Dís begged. “I’ll find them and…” Her voice was drowned out by another loud roar as the enormous dragon unleashed a barrage of flame not too far away. It was now so close Bilbo could feel the heat warm his skin unpleasantly and he fought a sob that threatened to bubble up and escape his mouth.

“I’m not going _anywhere_ until I find Frodo,” Bilbo swallowed, resolutely. Dís gave a sigh, but didn’t argue, nodding for Bilbo to follow her away from the dragon. They sprinted through the city towards the armory where they found Fíli. Dís gasped in relief, begging her eldest son to tell her where Kíli was. Fíli shrugged uncertainly, absolute terror clouding his expression.

“Frodo?” Bilbo breathed as he caught up with them. “Do you know where Frodo is?” Fíli blinked yet again and shook his head.

“He should have been with Kíli!” Fíli explained. “They were at the training field, are they not there?”

“They’re not. I’ve been there and home and I haven’t found either,” Bilbo replied before there was another loud crash and suddenly Bilbo spotted Thorin charging towards him as debris and dust were thrown into the air.

“Bilbo, what are you doing here?” Thorin demanded desperately as he reached his family.

“Frodo! I can’t find him anywhere,” Bilbo admitted with wide eyes. He could see the terror wash over Thorin but it quickly transformed into anger.

 _“You were supposed to be watching after him!”_ Thorin turned to Fíli. “He said he’d be with you!”

“I wasn’t yet! I was heading over to the training field when I heard the noise. I thought he’d be with Kíli still!” Fíli exclaimed.

“He might be,” Dís sighed. “That’s our best bet.”

Before Thorin could reply with any other questions about Frodo, his gaze shifted from Fíli and Bilbo to just over their shoulders. The large dragon was bearing down upon them, making its way towards where they stood. Bilbo was frozen in fear and couldn’t see how any of them were going to get out of this alive.  

 _“Oakenshield!”_ the dragon hissed angrily as its eyes locked on to where they stood.

 _Was that possible?_ Bilbo thought to himself. _Did that dragon really just speak?_

Not only did it speak but it was addressing Thorin himself. Somehow this dragon knew who Thorin was... _and was for some reason targeting him._

“Hey!” a small voice screamed loudly from across the large courtyard near the armory. Bilbo looked to see Frodo shouting in the direction of the dragon, who had began to make its way towards them. “Don’t hurt him!”

The dragon nearly purred in delight as it focused on Frodo, looking curiously at the tiny creature that would dare challenge him.

 _“Frodo!”_ Bilbo cried, his voice breaking.

Frodo had a grip on a bow that looked a little too big for him and he began nocking an arrow. All of them were too shocked to do anything as Frodo let the arrow fly and it merely bounced off the dragon. The large dragon stopped its rampage to turn and bow its head to study the small creature. Bilbo’s heart felt as if it had stopped beating altogether.

“No,” Bilbo croaked. The dragon reached forward, plucking the young hobbit from where he stood. Frodo dangled from his claws as the dragon observed Frodo’s struggling form curiously.

“No! Let him go!” Bilbo charged towards the dragon with renewed courage.

 _“Bilbo, no!”_ Thorin screamed, charging after him but Bilbo was too fast. He managed to scramble towards the dragon, past its attention, and ended up underneath the dragon’s underbelly. One misstep from the dragon and he could be squashed and killed. Bilbo’s mind was racing, trying to figure out how to get the dragon to release his nephew.

There was a barrage of flash flames thrown at the dragon as other dwarves attacked with the weapons from the armory and any other lines of defense. Sheathing his sword, Bilbo made his way towards the dragon’s rear leg and managed to scramble up the scales, using them as handholds.

“Let him go!” Bilbo beat his fist against the dragon’s scales but he knew none of it was going to do any good. He carefully pulled himself further up the dragon but it didn’t seem as if it had noticed the small hobbit climbing on top of it. Perhaps if he could reach the dragon’s eyes he could attempt to gouge them out with his blade and blind the dragon—or at the very least pull the dragon’s attention away from Frodo. Adrenaline pumped through him, giving him the strength to continue on with his mad quest to save his nephew if he could.

As the attacks on the dragon continued, the dragon shrieked with rage and as Bilbo reached the spikes on the dragon’s back, something jarred the dragon badly.

There were shouts from the dwarves as Frodo was dropped and the dragon released a wall of flame from it’s mouth. Bilbo was nearly thrown off and held on as he stifled a sob, hoping that none of his family had been caught in the crossfire. The dragon let out one last piercing roar before stumbling and Bilbo couldn’t hold on as he felt his grip slip. His thick overcoat he was wearing caught on one of the spikes on the dragons back. The hobbit was almost thankful his coat had caught him, saving him from a rough fall but now he was caught on the dragon as it flailed against the dwarfs’ attacks.

“Wait! Stop!” Bilbo cried as he swung from side to side but the dragon paid him no heed. _“Thorin!”_ Bilbo shouted as his last line of defense. But there was nothing anyone would be able to do as the dragon made its escape the way it came with Bilbo still attached.

**x**

After taking cover from the dragon’s fire, Thorin watched as Smaug and the few remaining dragons began to retreat. He thanked Mahal they had been able to force the dragons into retreat. His first instinct was to go to Frodo, who was lying across the courtyard completely still. He silently cursed the dragon that had taken his kingdom and continued to torment his people.

Dís joined Thorin at Frodo’s side and she quietly asked where Bilbo was. Thorin’s stomach lurched violently as he stood up and looked around the area where Smaug had just been.

 _“Bilbo!”_ Thorin screamed, desperately. “Bilbo, _please!”_

Dwalin approached Thorin as he continued his distraught search.

“I saw what happened,” Dwalin caught his breath. “When Frodo was in danger Bilbo maneuvered his way to climb up the dragon’s leg. When Smaug was hit it looked like it jarred Bilbo quite terribly but it seemed like he was caught on its back and he didn’t fall as the dragon retreated.”

Thorin gave a small sigh of relief that Bilbo had not yet been confirmed dead, but this news wasn’t much better.

“We have to go after him,” Thorin stated weakly. “We have to go after Smaug.” Dwalin gave him a pained, uncertain look. “He’s still alive, Dwalin. I cannot do nothing while Bilbo is being carried off on the back of _that dragon.”_ Thorin spun around searching for who was nearby to see who he could recruit to go with him. He glimpsed Kíli and  Óin, who had joined Dís at Frodo’s side, and Fíli hurried toward them looking pale and shaken.

“What do we do?” Fíli asked, catching his breath.

“Ready the ponies, we ride as soon as possible,” Thorin barked.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Dís cried as she left Frodo in the care of  Óin, who was gently transferring the small boy to a stretcher that he and Kíli maneuvered away from them. Thorin stared blankly watching them go. “Thorin!” Dís called his attention back to her. Thorin blinked a few times before looking at Fíli and then his sister.

“We’re going after him, he’s got Bilbo,” Thorin finally explained.

“You cannot go after _Smaug!”_ Dís gasped exasperatedly and Fíli didn’t move from his spot. “Have you seen what he’s done here? Have you forgotten what he’s done in the past? Only a fool would think he stood a chance against that dragon! A suicidal, mad fool!”

“I _will not_ stand idly by as the same dragon that took our homeland _takes my husband from me!”_ Thorin shouted desperately.

“Yes, but Frodo needs you, he’s alive but he’s badly hurt!” Dís cried. “I _cannot_ allow you to go off and get yourself killed, facing those impossible circumstances.”

“Frodo is in good hands,” Thorin muttered looking off in the direction Óin and Kíli had taken Frodo. “I cannot let Bilbo be taken from him after losing his birth parents.”

“Listen to me, Frodo is yours as much as he was Bilbo’s!” Dís shouted exasperatedly. “He loves you as a child loves a parent. What do you think he’s going to do if he not only loses Bilbo but you too… _and dragging Fíli and Kíli to go with you?_ I know you were thinking it and if you weren’t, they’d be the first ones to go running off after you. Are you actually  _trying_ to kill our entire family!?”

 _“‘Amad,”_ Fíli muttered, wanting to plead his case for Thorin.

 _“No,_ you get no say in this,” Dís snapped at her son before he could continue any further.

“I _cannot_ lose Bilbo!” Thorin gasped as he broke down and tears began leaking down his worn face. “I cannot lose him, Dís.” The adrenaline and anger were leaving him, soon to be replaced with pure grief. “What am I supposed to do without him?” Dís watched her brother with pity as he fought to keep it together. “What am I supposed to do?” he repeated weakly.

“Well, first of all you can avoid getting yourself killed and stay alive by remaining here and looking after Frodo.” Dís gently pulled Thorin close to embrace him.

“I cannot give him up so easily!” Thorin allowed his sister to hold him as he began to weep.

“I’ll tell you what we can do,” Dís spoke softly as she pulled away. “Fíli and I will organize a search party in case Bilbo…fell from Smaug after he left the mountains. You can leave that to us, but for now Kíli and Óin have taken Frodo to the medical wing…if it’s still standing.” Dís explained. “You need to be with Frodo. You should be the one there when he wakes up.”

Thorin gave another shuddering sigh and a look of resignation.

“I brought them here to be safe from the dragons.” Thorin wept quietly. “And in the end it still…I couldn’t protect him.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this.” Dís sighed softly.

“If they were at home in the Shire…if he’d never agreed to come back…they’d be back in the Shire, safe and together,” Thorin moaned miserably.

“Yes, but if you hadn’t brought them here…you wouldn’t have gotten the happiness you have when you’re with him. In fact, I’ve never seen you happier. But, don’t mourn just yet, dear brother,” Dís assured him. “You go attend to Frodo. I’ll begin to organize search parties.”

“Thank you, Dís.” Thorin nodded, pressing his forehead against hers briefly, before he numbly made his way towards the direction of the medical wing. He arrived and found the entire wing had been destroyed. Thorin panicked for a moment before finding a dwarf to ask where the wounded were being treated. After a little more walking, he found himself in a large feasting hall that was filled with wounded dwarves. Thorin swallowed hard as he saw the severe injuries many of the dwarves had sustained.

 _How many times must Smaug torment me?_ Thorin thought to himself. _How many times must he wound and kill my people?_

He finally found Kíli sitting next to a cot where Frodo was lying. Thorin could feel a new wave of emotion overtake him as he saw Frodo pale and unmoving.

“Thorin,” Kíli greeted quietly as he stood up from his spot beside Frodo on the cot.

“Oh, Mahal,” Thorin muttered, trying to fight back more tears. _“Mahal, no,”_ Thorin moaned. “Frodo…will he be okay?”

“Óin said it was a hard fall,” Kíli explained. “He said Frodo may have a concussion but he should be okay and that he’ll wake soon…come sit down,” Kíli offered. “You don’t look like you can stand much longer.” Thorin accepted without an argument as he kept his eyes on Frodo, reaching forward to grasp the hobbit’s small cold hand.

“Oh, my dear Frodo.” Thorin clenched his eyes shut as a few more tears fell from his eyes and onto his cheeks. “I’ve failed you and your uncle.” Kíli gently put a hand on his uncle’s shoulder, a few tears dripping from his own eyes.

“What are we going to do?” Kíli asked quietly, wiping the tears away. “What’s going to happen?”

“Dís said she’d organize a search party in case Bilbo fell from the dragon…” Thorin sighed miserably. “She and Fíli are organizing as we speak.”

“But we’re going to go after the dragon if he isn’t found, right?” Kíli asked. “Bilbo isn’t dead!”

“Kíli…” Thorin sighed. “We don’t…I don’t know if he is or not. I don’t think he’ll…” Thorin shook his head, though it broke his heart to say so. Dís was right.

“We have to!” Kíli argued. “We have to go find him, Thorin!”

“I-It’s reckless, Kíli. You don’t understand the damage this dragon has already done,” Thorin explained quietly. “You don’t even know the half of…no. We…I can’t go when I’ve got Frodo to look after.”

“‘Amad can take care of him while we go get Uncle Bilbo back,” Kíli offered. “We’ll take our best men, track the dragon down and kill it and have Bilbo back before you know it.”

“It’s a suicide mission, Kíli!” Thorin barked. “I can’t go put myself in that situation. I’m still far too important here and besides that, I can’t let Frodo become an orphan again! I can’t just let him be passed off like some remnant of dragon attacks!”

Thorin’s raised voice had attracted attention and Frodo began to stir. Thorin quieted immediately, watching as the young hobbit began to wake.

“Frodo?” Thorin called gently. Frodo’s face turned miserable as he began to cry softly. “What is it?” Thorin asked and then turned to Kíli.

“Óin said he may experience some pain when he woke up. He said to come get him if that’s the case.” Kíli turned to search the hall for the physician. “I’ll be back.”

Thorin tried to soothe Frodo the best he could as Frodo softly cried.

“My head hurts,” Frodo sniffled. “A lot…a-and so does my arm.”

“I know.” Thorin gently held Frodo’s hand, his eyes glancing at Frodo’s exposed shoulder. There was an old burn scar there and Thorin remembered Bilbo saying that he’d gotten burn scars in the attack when his parents were killed. Thorin gave a miserable sigh, hating to think how many times this boy’s life had to be torn to shreds by dragons. “Kíli’s gone to get Óin to help you. They’ll be here soon.”

“W-Where’s the dragon?” Frodo asked, looking terrified.

“The dragon…escaped. You’re safe. You were especially brave to try to stand up to that dragon, but please promise me you’ll never do that again.” Thorin looked sadly at Frodo. “Why weren’t you with Fíli or Kíli?”

“I went home to get lunch, while Kíli finished straightening up the training field, b-because I didn’t want to miss you a-and practice went a little late,” Frodo sniffled. “Then I heard the dragon and…and I still had my bow for archery practice with Kíli and I thought m-maybe I could help…a-and when I got there I heard it say your name and I couldn’t—I had t-to do something…” Frodo whimpered as tears began to leak from his eyes and Thorin quietly tried to soothe him. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Frodo,” Thorin murmured gently stroking Frodo’s hair. “It’s all right.”

“Where’s Uncle Bilbo?” Frodo asked and Thorin tried to come up with a quick lie if only to comfort Frodo for now but his mind came up blank.

“He’s…” Thorin’s voice cracked. “He’s not here, Frodo.”

“Where is he?” Frodo was beginning to become upset again.

“The dragon…” Thorin couldn’t meet Frodo’s eyes.

“Where is he, Uncle Thorin?” Frodo repeated again, beginning to realize the answer wasn’t going to be good. “Uncle Thorin.” Frodo’s eyes began to well up with more tears.

“The dragon carried him off,” Thorin explained. “Aunt Dís and Fíli are organizing search parties to see if he’d fallen as the dragon fled.”

“Are th-they going to find him?” Frodo asked as tears began to drip down his cheeks.

“I don’t know, Frodo,” Thorin sighed. Frodo began to sob and Thorin repositioned himself to sit closer to Frodo on the bed, gently cradling the hobbit as he wept, and Óin finally came over.

“Oh, child,” Óin sighed, pulling a vial out of a pocket in his smock. Thorin exhaustedly ran a hand over his own face, wiping away any tears that had escaped as Óin tried to calm Frodo enough to get him to take the tonic for the pain. It took a while and Óin was called away, but he left the tonic with Thorin and Kíli to make sure Frodo would take it. Eventually they calmed Frodo enough and the young hobbit fell asleep quickly after taking the tonic. Thorin gently ran his thumb against Frodo’s sweaty brow.

“It’ll probably be best for him to sleep for now,” Kili explained.

“I can’t believe I’ve let this happen.” Thorin watched Frodo’s tear-stained, sleeping face.

“You didn’t let anything happen,” Kíli assured his uncle.

“I promised them they’d be safe here,” Thorin argued. “And after losing his parents, he’s lost the next thing he had to a parent and I’m to blame. He’ll hate me for this, and I don’t blame him.”

“He’s not going to hate you, Thorin. You’re not to blame here!” Kíli argued.

“You saw how he reacted. He’ll hate me for letting Bilbo be taken…leaving him all alone again.” Thorin groaned miserably.

“He’s not alone. He still has you,” Kíli muttered. “And he still has us.”

“I’m not…I’m not Bilbo,” Thorin explained. “We’re not hobbits.”

“We’re not hobbits but we’re his family.” Kíli shook his head. “He still loves you. He still needs you, now more than ever.”

“Kíli…” Thorin sighed. Kíli collapsed on the edge of Frodo’s bed as he held back tears.

“B-But maybe they’ll find Bilbo,” Kíli muttered shakily. “We’ll get him back here and he and Frodo can recuperate together.” Thorin gently reached forward and his nephew was quick to grasp his uncle’s hand.

“We can hope.” Thorin decided to give his nephew a small reassurance. He hoped beyond hope that it was the case but something in the pit of his stomach said it was most likely not going to come true.

“You’ll have to stop working at the forges for a while with two injured hobbits to look after,” Kíli commented optimistically. Thorin gave an exhausted smile to his nephew.

“Yes, I don’t think I’m getting much work done any time soon,” Thorin sighed. “The shop is probably destroyed anyway.”

“Fíli and I will be able to help out. Dwalin too,” Kíli assured his uncle.

“Why don’t you go see what else can be done around here?” Thorin suggested. “I’ll sit with Frodo.”

After making sure there was nothing else Thorin needed at the moment, Kíli disappeared among the dwarves swarming the temporary infirmary. Soon Thorin’s thoughts were getting the better of him, scrambling to try to figure out what he should do if Bilbo was not found. He hoped that he’d have news soon from his sister or nephew. This uncertainty was clawing away at Thorin’s mind and twisted his stomach unpleasantly. His hand went to find Frodo’s in an attempt to calm himself down. He watched the boy’s peaceful face as he took the small hand in his own and his thumb gently stroked Frodo’s hand.

Thorin wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he felt a hand grip his shoulder. He looked up to find Balin who was giving him a small pitying smile. Thorin swallowed whatever emotion bubbled up at the sight and gave the other dwarf a sorrowful smile.

“I am glad to see you’re all right.” Thorin’s other hand came up to pat Balin’s hand which rested on his shoulder.

“As am I to see you,” Balin admitted quietly. “Óin said Frodo would be all right.” Balin spoke softly, his expression hopeful that the topic of Frodo’s eventual recovery would help Thorin’s downcast mood. Thorin’s frown only deepened at the mention and Balin gave a defeated sigh.

“Any word back from the search parties?” Thorin asked tentatively.

“Nothing yet,” Balin shook his head. “They probably won’t return till tomorrow morning. Until then you and Frodo should get some good rest.” Thorin nodded with a sigh as he turned his gaze back to Frodo. “We should be grateful more damage was not done,” Balin offered quietly. “This could have been a much worse tragedy.”

Thorin’s jaw clenched once again before finally parting his lips to speak.

“That is true. At least Smaug has not yet claimed this home from us as well,” Thorin admitted quietly. “We’ve learned enough to defend ourselves at least this much and if we’re lucky the dragon’s injury will be the death of it, either by infection or blood loss. But we must prepare in case he survives and decides to take another chance at us.”

“Aye,” Balin agreed. “But as I said, for now we must rest. I’ve been told your residence is still intact if you’d like to take Frodo home,” Balin told Thorin quietly. “It might be good for him to wake up in a familiar setting.”

“Is he safe to be moved?” Thorin asked.

“Óin assured me he should be fine as long as you’re careful with his head,” Balin explained. Thorin nodded and stood, regaining his footing after being seated for so long. Although he felt physically weak and sick, he gathered his strength, wrapped Frodo in the thin blanket, and scooped him up into his arms.

He was now much too big to be properly carried, Thorin realized as he struggled a bit with the boy. It wasn’t impossible, as Thorin was sure he could carry Bilbo if he had to. But Frodo was definitely much more cumbersome than he used to be when he was younger. It was quite awkward but Thorin had to get him home.

A small part of him still believed that if he could get home he’d find Bilbo waiting for them, sick with worry.

As Thorin carried the hobbit in his arms, he couldn’t believe how much Frodo had grown since Thorin had known him. He remembered Fíli and Kíli’s growth spurts and even while those seemed to happen quickly, they were nothing compared to the hobbit. Frodo had gained several inches and filled out a little more in the few years they’d lived there. His small round face narrowed a bit, his features becoming more defined and there was even more curly hair on the top of his large hobbit feet.

Thorin didn’t know the boy’s parents but he saw plenty of Bilbo in Frodo. They both had eyes filled with light and wonder, the same curly hair, the same shaped noses. They shared intellectual passions and Thorin recalled of the many nights he found Bilbo and Frodo poring over maps together. They’d both get excited scouring notes and doing more research on the geography of the land or rare and interesting texts.

Thinking about Bilbo possibly being gone from his and Frodo’s lives forever now…it was just too much to even consider. They had to find Bilbo and bring him back because the alternative hurt too much to bear.

He was able to hold it together as they made their way back to their home. Balin updated him on how many search parties had been sent out and what times they should be returning. Soon after Thorin had Frodo settled in his bed, Balin bid them goodbye and promised to come and see them as soon as possible. As Thorin closed the front door he turned and looked around.

There were still dishes sitting in the sink from that morning at breakfast and it seemed like an eternity ago that he and Bilbo sat at the kitchen table together. He slid a hand over his face and moved upstairs. He made sure Frodo’s door was open in case Frodo woke any time during the night and cried out before turning towards his and Bilbo’s room. Upon opening the door he spotted the journal Bilbo had been writing in on the desk. It had been left open, his quill perched in the inkwell waiting for its owner to return at any moment to pick it up and continue working. There were still a few of Bilbo’s discarded trousers and shirts thrown on the bed as if Bilbo was only getting changed out of his clothes for the day and was going to be in any moment to join him in bed.

Thorin finally collapsed into tears after attempting to hold it together all day. He fell back into the armchair he so often found Bilbo curled up in and put his head in his hands and sobbed as if the tears would never stop falling.

He felt as if there was a vast emptiness or void inside him that would never allow him to be happy again. It was beginning to sink in that it was extremely unlikely he would ever see his dear hobbit again.

He still had Frodo but he now felt lonelier than he’d ever felt before.

When he finally pulled himself together, he tugged his clothes off to prepare for bed. Numbly he went to the washroom and cleaned himself up, and when he returned to his room it didn’t feel like his room anymore.

Bilbo was not resting on the bed already with his book on his lap, looking to Thorin expectantly. Thorin hesitantly went to sit on his side of the bed and laid down, not daring to turn to look at the empty side of the bed where Bilbo usually slept. He wished for sleep to take him so he could have a moment’s rest from this constant anxiety and tentative grief that plagued him. It seemed he lay there for hours before sleep finally took him and when it did it was a restless one. Not having Bilbo pressed up against his backside made for a very rough and unpleasant night.

The next morning Thorin was gently woken by his brunet nephew, who peered at him with concern.

“Bilbo?” Thorin croaked. “The search parties?”

“They’ll be getting back any time now. Figured you’d want to be awake for when ‘Amad comes home.”

“Frodo?” Thorin asked next.

“Is okay. I checked in on him and made sure he was doing fine. He’s still sleeping. He must have slept through the night.”

“Good,” Thorin grumbled as he pulled himself out of bed and clothed himself enough to be decent when his sister and eldest nephew returned home.

Kíli had already gone about making tea for them that morning and Thorin noted silently that it had been sweetened a little too much for his tastes, but said nothing of it.

His stomach twisted in knots at the anticipation as he and Kíli sat at the kitchen table in silence. Thorin pondered what he would have to tell Frodo when he woke. He wondered at what his own reaction was going to be, regardless of the news. All of his thinking was not doing him any favors and he nearly pulled his boots on to go greet his sister and the search party when the door quietly opened.

Dís and Fíli appeared with no third figure accompanying them.

 _Perhaps Bilbo’s already been taken to see Óin…_ Thorin began to tell himself but he knew it wasn’t true by the expressions on his sister and nephew’s faces.

“We searched all night,” Dís started, barely audible. Thorin could already feel his throat closing up and it felt as if a boulder were crushing his chest. “We’ve sent out another party just to make sure we haven’t missed anything…but…Thorin,” Dís gently addressed him. Thorin felt the world start crashing down around him as his knees threatened to go out from underneath him. “I don’t think we’re going to find him.”

Thorin inhaled a deep breath to try to collect himself. He’d been trying to prepare his mind for this inevitable conclusion all night long but none of it had done him any good. He felt his sister’s hands reach out to steady him and then her forehead gently pressing against his own.

All of a sudden a wave of anger overtook him. A white hot anger bubbled up inside as tears burned behind his eyes. He pulled himself away from his sister’s comforting touches to push the chair he’d just been sitting on over.  He went to push his tea and the tea kettle off the table when both of his nephews hurried to restrain him.

 _It’s completely unfair,_ his mind screamed. _It’s unbelievingly unfair that the same dragon that took my home, took my husband after finally finding peace and happiness after everything I’ve been through._

The tears began to fall as he cursed Smaug with every curse in their language he could conjure. His nephews managed to wrangle him over to the living area as Dís stoked the fire, coaxing it back to life. Fíli and Kíli finally managed to get Thorin to sit down as his tears overwhelmed him.

Dís motioned for Kíli to move from his spot pressed firmly against his uncle and he reluctantly obeyed. She sat down next to her brother and gently stroked his hair, pulling it away from his face.

“Thorin,” her voice was calm and commanding. “Breathe. In…and out. In…and out. In…and out. There you go.” Thorin's shuddering breaths began to calm as she gently rubbed his back, and Thorin let out a low miserable moan as hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

Kíli silently went to Fili’s side and curled against his brother as Thorin’s muffled sobs filled the room. The four of them sat like that for a long time before ever moving from that spot.

The day passed and soon Dís, Fíli, and Kíli slowly removed themselves one by one and took turns sitting comfortingly near Thorin. The others softly discussed things with each other, one going out while another went upstairs, but Thorin couldn’t bring himself to focus or care about a single thing they did. Even when they addressed him it seemed as if it was through a hazy fog. He stayed rooted to that spot and waited patiently for the world to collapse in on itself and swallow him whole so he no longer had to feel the grief tearing him apart from the inside.

This was different from losing his brother. This was different from losing his grandfather or father.

When he’d lost members of his family he had been angry and had little time to grieve because he was expected to continue to lead their people. The dwarves of Erebor looked to him for strength and leadership.

Now he was free to grieve without anyone immediately looking to him for anything and the sorrow overwhelmed any anger that might keep him going.

He couldn’t continue on. The world itself _shouldn’t_ continue on. It had no right. The world around him carried on and he couldn’t stand the thought that time continued to pass without a second thought to what he’d lost.

Dís brought him food but it was left mostly untouched. She sat beside him as a comforting presence but Thorin hardly noticed.

“Thorin,” Dís muttered softly, her fingers gently reaching up and stroked his hair. “If you’re not going to have anything to eat, I think you should at least go up to your room and get some rest.” Thorin shook his head and gave a shuddering sigh, holding back another sob. He was determined not to break down in front of his sister once again but it was becoming difficult. He’d been crying on and off most of the day.

Dís gave him a soft sympathetic look before leaving him alone for the night.

When Thorin awoke the next morning he realized he’d passed out in front of the fire downstairs. He found a blanket had been draped over him and his throat was raw and swollen from his sobbing. He instinctually began to fret that Bilbo wouldn’t be pleased that Thorin hadn’t come to bed the night before.

Then he remembered Bilbo was no longer there. He was gone: dead or otherwise. Thorin swallowed thickly, part of him still wishing this was some sort of hellish nightmare. He hoped he’d wake up at any moment with Bilbo at his side to comfort him. He desperately longed for Bilbo’s soothing kisses when he’d had a rough day and Bilbo telling him that no matter what he’d always be there at Thorin’s side.  

Fíli appeared offering him a cup of tea.

“There’s honey in it,” Fíli offered quietly. Thorin couldn’t properly summon his voice to thank Fíli for the tea before hesitantly taking a small sip of the hot tea. “‘Amad and Kíli are still upstairs tending to Frodo.”

“Is he—?” Thorin rasped, not even able to meet his eldest nephew’s eyes.

“In and out of it most of yesterday with the pain tonics.” Fíli shrugged. “But we told him the news.” Thorin’s stomach continued to feel as if it were being torn to shreds and for a moment he thought he might vomit. “He asked to see you yesterday but you were…perhaps you’d like to come see him, now?”

Thorin shook his head and closed his eyes.

“Not right now,” Thorin muttered. “I-I can’t…”

“He doesn’t hate you, Thorin,” Fíli offered softly. “Kíli told me that’s what you think, but he doesn’t.”

Thorin gave a small grunt to acknowledge what Fíli said before sipping at his tea a bit more.

“Why don’t you go lie down upstairs in your room and get some proper sleep?” Fíli suggested. Thorin sighed and shakily stood up. Fíli took the tea from him as he offered a hand for Thorin to steady himself with. Thorin pushed past his nephew’s offered hand and made his way upstairs towards his bedroom but paused before entering. A quiet voice pulled him from his miserable thoughts.

“What do we do now?” Kili’s timid voice could be heard on the other side of the hallway. Thorin turned to look at the door to Frodo’s room, which was hanging ajar.

“Look after Thorin and Frodo,” his sister’s quiet voice replied. “They’re depending on us to stay strong.”

“But I mean…I know the other search party didn’t find anything but that should be a _good_ thing, right? I mean, we haven’t…found a body or anything,” Kíli explained. Thorin’s heart constricted and once again he felt like he was going to vomit.

“Kíli, there’s no chance Bilbo’s survived,” Dís muttered. “Not at this point and not with a dragon like that. That dragon has caused more pain and suffering than you could even imagine.”

Then there was a hesitation on Kíli’s part as if he was formulating some kind of question.

“We shouldn’t—let’s not talk about it any more right now, all right? We’ll talk later,” Dís promised. “In the meantime I’m going to go get us something to eat.” Thorin was about to finally turn and enter his room when the door to Frodo’s room opened wide. In the dim light Thorin could see how worn down his sister looked and he wondered if she’d slept at all that night...or the night before for that matter.

“I didn’t realize you were awake,” Dís greeted him. He could tell she’d been crying; her eyes were puffy and red and he could see the bags underneath them.

“Just going to bed actually,” Thorin muttered, turning back to his room.

“Would you like to have some breakfast with us?” Dís asked.

“No,” Thorin replied brusquely before disappearing into his own room and closing the door behind him. He burrowed into the unmade bed and let another sorrowful moan escape his lips. Thorin closed his eyes, feeling hot wet tears drip onto the pillows and waited once again for the sweet escape of sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;;;;;;; I'm sorry.  
> (If you're keeping the HTTYD timeline in your head while reading this, this shouldn't be a complete surprise....but it still hurt to write. But now we're getting somewhere right?? ಥ‿ಥ)


	9. Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick reminder to keep in mind during this chapter: the geography is slightly different in this AU to mirror Berk/HTTYDverse. You can find a map of my general idea of how Middle Earth looks in this AU [here.](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com/post/107350750638/a-general-idea-of-how-i-imagine-the-map-of)

Wind whipped at Bilbo’s face as he could feel panic wrack his entire body. The dragon’s wings beat furiously as they carried the both of them out of Ered Luin, and the world below him began to shrink as the air grew colder. The dragon’s roars pierced his eardrums and Bilbo had never felt more helpless in all his life.

“P-Please!” Bilbo tried to scream over the wind as if the dragon would hear him and stop for Bilbo to unhook himself. He struggled as hard as he could, hoping to unlatch himself from the dragon but as they continued to ascend, Bilbo was no longer sure that was the best option.

He was stuck hanging off a dragon as it carried him farther and farther away from his home, and soon his thoughts were telling him that he was surely about to die. Bilbo was expecting the coat to rip at any moment. With his death seemingly imminent, his mind frantically began to search for the last time he’d spoken to Thorin and Frodo before the dragon appeared.

This didn’t seem to help his already panicked state of mind and he lingered on them for much too long.

Soon the shock was beginning to wear off as he realized how uncomfortable he was. The coat he was wearing was yanking uncomfortably at his underarms. Bilbo tried to shift to relieve the pressure but he was too terrified of the sudden shift jarring him and slipping out of the coat to plunge to his death. He held himself, praying he’d be able to survive until the dragon landed. Surely it’d have to land soon? Bilbo thought the dragon was possibly injured by the attack the dwarves had led back in Ered Luin, so the dragon couldn’t continue on forever, could it? If he could just hold on until the dragon landed he may have a chance to slip away and get somewhere safe. The dragon hadn’t really taken notice of him, so if he didn’t alert the dragon to his presence he’d be able to get away freely. Or at least that’s what Bilbo hoped.

Bilbo felt like they’d been flying for an impossibly long time and soon Bilbo realized that land was no longer beneath them. Now, it was the menacing cold-looking ocean that was soaring by beneath Bilbo’s dangling feet. His hands suddenly wanted anything to grip onto but he was much too afraid of moving at all if there was a chance that he could fall and spiral down towards the sea.

Part of him wondered which would be a better death: being torn to shreds and roasted by a dragon or falling a remarkable distance and drowning? Bilbo swallowed hard, trying not to think about either of those options. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

At some point during their flight Bilbo must have lost consciousness because when he came to, the freezing air was still stinging his face as it swept past him but the sky was dark. Bilbo blinked as he realized he was gliding over the treetops. He jumped in panic, remembering he was still trapped on the back of the large dragon that had attacked Ered Luin.

His head ached a good deal, but  he realized they were declining and the treetops were growing closer to his dangling feet. Bilbo braced himself as well as he could for landing.

They crashed to the ground, jarring Bilbo from where he was stuck and the hobbit tumbled onto the ground landing on his feet oddly. He cried out in pain as he heard the dragon crash a little further away.

Everything was silent for a good moment while Bilbo attempted to catch his breath as quietly as he could, trying  not alert the dragon to his presence. Not wanting to take any chances, Bilbo hurried off the moment he caught his breath, knowing he had to get as far away from the dragon as possible before dawn broke.

He shakily stood, trying hard not to attract the attention of the dragon that had landed farther away. At first he thought perhaps it was a good thing that the sky was still fairly dark, but remembered that dragons had a good sense of hearing and smell. If the dragon had realized Bilbo was there and found him, he’d be a good snack to the dragon before it continued on its merry way and Bilbo swallowed hard. He hoped that whatever possible injuries the dragon had sustained would distract from his quick escape and the only concern of the dragon’s was to protect itself instead of to hunt for easy prey.

He had no clue where he was at but this was the only chance he had to escape the dragon unharmed. Stumbling away, Bilbo hurried off  trying to avoid trees and tripping over large rocks.

Bilbo staggered farther and farther away until his feet couldn’t carry him any farther. He collapsed against a large tree and sank to the ground, closing his eyes for a moment to rest.

When he woke the sunlight was nearly blinding but he was thankful to finally be able to take in his surroundings properly. Bilbo blinked and hastily climbed a nearby pine tree to try to get a better idea of where they’d landed. He was faced with numerous formidable peaks and Bilbo turned to look the other way where he could see the sea far off in the distance.

Bilbo frowned as he tried to conjure up a mental map of the world. If he was correct, the dragon had flown east when they left Ered Luin. Glancing at the midmorning sun rising behind his back, Bilbo determined that this must be the East and he would need to head west to get home.

If they were traveling east and had already crossed a body of water and mountains now lay to the west of where he was…were these peaks that seemed to surround him the Misty Mountains? Dread formed in the pit of his stomach.

 _Terrific,_ Bilbo moaned. _I’ve been brought east of the Misty Mountains…I’m never going to make it home. I’ll never get through the mountains alive._

Bilbo slowly climbed back down the tree and sighed as his stomach growled at him.

He had to at least _try_ to make it home. It was either that or stay behind and wait for that dragon—or any dragon in that case—to find him and eat him. Bilbo was amazed he hadn’t already been confronted by any other dragon, since this was a place in the world famously known for its dangerous dragons.

The further he travelled into the mountain range the better his chances were at running into Whispering Deaths or perhaps even goblins but he had no choice. Either way seemed like probable death; he just had to choose the direction where he was least likely to die. At the moment, Bilbo decided that was to try and brave the mountains.

His stomach rumbled unpleasantly once again and his throat was dry. He knew his first priority should be to find some drinkable water.

Bilbo spent the day trekking west, listening for any telltale signs of a freshwater source. About half way through the day he found a small stream and was remarkably relieved as he knelt down beside it. He let out a small grunt of frustration when he realized he had nothing to carry water in so he’d have to rely on constantly finding sources of water.

He traveled alongside the stream for a while until it became impossible to continue and Bilbo took another long thirsty gulp from the stream before he carefully undid the scarf tied around his neck and soaked the scarf in the stream.

It wasn’t much but if he was desperate for water perhaps it’d be able to give him a few drops of relief.

That night he found a small cave to curl up in and rest. There was even a small pool of fresh water outside of the cave that looked like rain water had collected there. Bilbo was grateful to find such a sheltered place with water to rest and prayed that nothing would find him in the middle of the night.

Though his good luck soon ran out. The cave he rested in had ended up being a direct tunnel to the heart of the mountains.

When he awoke again it was still dark, the pale light of the moon barely illuminating the cave. Bilbo slowly opened his eyes as he heard a quiet rasping sound. He woke to a ghastly sight as a goblin hovered over him, checking to see if he was alive.

Bilbo’s sudden waking startled the goblin and the hobbit jumped, his hand reaching for the blade he’d kept near him at all times but he was too slow. As the hobbit’s hand closed around the smooth hilt of the blade, the goblin grabbed Bilbo and dragged him towards the back of the cave. They wrestled as the goblin attempted to knock Bilbo’s head against one of the sharp rocks in the cave but Bilbo was quick to drive the blade into the goblins side.

It shrieked in pain and only made its grip on Bilbo tighter and Bilbo let out a small whimper, thinking about how badly he would bruise.

The goblin staggered backwards, still holding fast to Bilbo as it fell. Instead of just falling to the ground, Bilbo was pulled into a lengthy fall through complete darkness until he finally hit the cold hard ground. He could hear the goblin screeching in pain and Bilbo desperately felt around for the blade that had slipped from his grasp.

It was completely dark and Bilbo tried his hardest to keep as silent as possible to avoid the goblin attacking him while he was unarmed. But no doubt the goblin had better sight in the darkness than he did.

Bilbo may have lived in the mountains for over four years but that didn’t mean he had acquired the dwarves’ excellent eyesight in the dark.

With a rush of relief Bilbo found the blade, but his hand also landed upon something else.

Something small, cold, and round.

It was a ring.

Before Bilbo knew what he was doing he pocketed the bizarre object as he grabbed for his blade, holding it tight in his hand. He calmed his breathing and strained his ears for the goblin. Its raspy moans had quieted and Bilbo could hear his own heartbeat pulse madly through his ears.

He held his sword up, ready to defend himself when he heard a second noise, the sound of something hurrying through the damp tunnel towards them.

Bilbo attempted to get away from the approaching sound and blindly stumbled along the tunnel away from the noise. His hand found a rocky obtrusion and Bilbo quickly threw himself behind it and caught his breath as silently as he could.

As he stopped and listened, he could hear a sickly voice speaking.

“Nasty goblinses. Better than old bones, _Precious_. Better than nothing!”

Bilbo swallowed hard as he listened as the other presence made its way through the cave. He heard the creature come upon the goblin and brutally put the thing out of its misery. A dragging noise could be heard and Bilbo wondered if the creature was dragging the goblin back to where ever it lived.

“Too many boneses, Precious! Not enough flesh! _Shut up! Cut its skin off.”_

It sounded so unpleasant, Bilbo felt nauseous. He didn’t know what to do…he was stuck down here within the heart of the mountains and had no idea how to get out.

But he was determined not to die down here where no one would ever find him. Thorin and Frodo would never know what became of him and Bilbo refused to accept that.

Suddenly an idea made its way to the front of Bilbo’s mind as the voice retreated down the tunnel. Perhaps if Bilbo could stealthily follow whatever creature was dragging the goblin away, perhaps he could learn the way out of the mountain. Surely at some point the creature would leave the mountain? Bilbo could follow him out of the labyrinth of tunnels and back to the outside.

At least that was the only plan Bilbo could think of, other than remaining there in the dark tunnel and feeling his way around with no real guarantee to find his way out on his own.

This plan had no guarantee either but Bilbo figured he might have a better chance this way.

As Bilbo continued along the damp and dark passage he could hear the thing ahead of him singing to itself. It gave Bilbo chills and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Continuing down the tunnel, suddenly Bilbo could see a faint light illuminating a large cave with an enormous underground lake.

The creature had already gotten the goblin out to the rocky island off the shore of the underground lake and was beating its skull with a large rock, finishing it off.

Bilbo swallowed hard, fighting down a second wave of nausea as he listened to the sickening crunches. He went to find a safe place to hide from the creature, yet still be able keep an eye on the thing to see if it would lead him anywhere.

But soon Bilbo was worried that perhaps this creature did not need to leave the caves. If it was a creature of the mountain who knew how long it would be before the creature needed to leave the mountains?

The worries didn’t trouble Bilbo long because not long after the sickening sounds of the goblin being beaten to death, the creature found Bilbo. The hobbit gripped his short sword once again in his defense. Somewhere in the back of his mind Bilbo was suddenly immensely grateful for Thorin’s ridiculous dwarvish impracticality and instinct to give him this blade for his wedding gift.

Before long Bilbo had entered into a game of riddles to try to barter for his way to safety.

If Bilbo won, the creature named Gollum would show him the way out. If Gollum won, Bilbo agreed to let himself be ‘eaten whole’. He was confident in his riddling skills, but just in case Bilbo gripped his blade even harder.

For a brief moment, riddling with the creature brought back memories of sitting in his room back at Bag-End with Frodo and Thorin and his stomach twisted, yearning for that comfort once again. But for now he had to keep his wits about him in order to get out of this game alive.

Soon enough, the creature had guessed that Bilbo had the strange ring in his pocket that had apparently belonged to the creature. Gollum was convinced Bilbo had stolen it. Common sense told Bilbo he should give up the ring in hopes that the creature would leave him be…but something in him did not want to relinquish the ring.

He was finally able to make a break from the creature who called itself Gollum as he bumbled through the tunnels he’d come from. As he was fleeing, he tripped and the cold ring that he still had clutched in his hands found its way onto Bilbo’s finger. That’s when he discovered that wearing the ring rendered him invisible.

Gollum could no longer see him as he hurried around the corner and looked wildly around for any trace of him. Bilbo remained completely still as Gollum looked right past him and continued down the tunnel.

He was able to escape the caves by following Gollum through the tunnels to the nearest exit. They nearly ran into goblins once or twice but Bilbo was just glad that they had not run into any dragons if the tunnels were anything to go by. Many of the tunnels they travelled through looked as if they’d been created by the Whispering Deaths that no doubt lived in the mountains. Bilbo hurried out into the sunlight which was a great relief after spending all that time in the mountains. Once he was far enough away Bilbo pulled the ring off his finger and pressed it into his palm as he looked around.

He pocketed the strange magic ring and set off again, determined to put as much distance between him and that wretched creature.

Bilbo only stopped once or twice that day when he’d find a small brook or stream to drink from and rested for only brief periods of time. He tried to remain alert to anything that sounded like it could be a dragon swooping down and attacking from above, but it was getting difficult with the light-headedness that starvation brought.

Eventually Bilbo realized he’d only just gone in a circle when he happened back upon the clearing that had been made by the large dragon crashing and felling trees. Looking down the hill he could see the dragon he had arrived on still laying there making agonized groans of pain. He couldn’t believe the dragon was still here. Bilbo stood there staring at the magnificent beast and part of him wondered what his mother would do, mixing with thoughts of how on earth he’d get home, especially not knowing where he was or if there was any civilization near by.

As he stood there and stared down at the bizarre sight, Bilbo began to realize the dragon was his best shot at getting home. He knew the dragon could speak. If he could at least persuade the dragon to fly him somewhere in exchange for helping the dragon with its wounds he may have a chance yet.

He’d arrive back in the Blue Mountains and be a legend for ever escaping a dragon such as this one and making it back home alive.

As he crept closer he realized the dragon was so much larger than he’d imagined. Even seeing it in Ered Luin he did not register how large the dragon truly was and suddenly Bilbo was even more terrified of his prospective plan.

But if he was ever going to see Thorin and Frodo again he had to do this. Taking one last deep breath he ventured forward.

Before taking the final few steps towards the dragon, Bilbo slipped ring the ring on his finger as a last defense. He knew that it wouldn’t make him completely invincible but it’d give him a little bit of an advantage.

“D-Dragon!” He called from a spot behind a still standing tree. He watched as the dragon slowly opened its eyes with an unpleased hum and a labored groan.

“Who is it?” the dragon purred. “Who is there?”

“An ally,” Bilbo offered meekly. The dragon sat up, suddenly seeming interested. Bilbo wondered if dragons were an exception to the invisibility the ring gave him.

“Oh, I can sense that,” the dragon murmured in its low voice. It nearly seemed to forget about its injury altogether as it searched for Bilbo with piqued interest. “I’ll tell you…there is something about you. Something you carry…something made of gold…” the dragon hissed. Bilbo’s stomach lurched unpleasantly. His fingers instinctively went to the ring he was wearing on his finger. How had this dragon known about the magic ring he had on? Could he sense the magic and recognized the source?

“I-I can see you’re hurt,” Bilbo continued on timidly, though trying to put up a brave front and distracting from the conversation that led towards the gold ring.

“Nothing too bad,” the dragon remarked. “I cannot be killed by a wound such as this. It’s nothing more than a hinderance.”

“Bad enough hinderance to keep you from flying away,” Bilbo observed. It gave a displeased growl.

“What is what you want?”

“Want? I want nothing,” Bilbo quickly told the dragon. It was most definitely not a good idea to tell a dragon that you were planning to use it for your own gain. “I just hate to see a creature so badly wounded.”

“Reveal yourself, Ring-Bearer,” the dragon commanded as if it didn’t believe Bilbo at all. “If you call yourself my ally, I should like to see to whom I am speaking.”

Bilbo frantically tried to weigh his options. Did he dare remove the ring? Should he turn around and head back into the mountains with the aid of his magic ring? But if this dragon could sense him with the magic ring what was to say that other dragons couldn’t also feel the ring’s presence?

Almost as if he were no longer in control of his limbs, he brought his hand up and removed the ring from his finger and swiftly tucked it into his pocket. The dragon lifted its head slowly to eye him. It was obvious he was no dwarf and that much Bilbo hoped was enough to keep the dragon from killing him outright.

When the dragon said nothing at Bilbo’s sudden appearance, the hobbit swallowed loudly.

“Now, I can see you’re hurt.” Bilbo pointed at the dragon’s awkwardly folded wing. Without another word of persuasion the dragon stretched its wing out to show the damage that had been done.

“I do seem to have an injury that is making flying terribly difficult,” the dragon remarked.

“Perhaps I could take a look?” Bilbo suggested. _What was he doing? This dragon was not about to let him climb up into his injured area and poke around?_

The dragon slowly nodded.

_Or was it?_

Before the dragon could change its mind, Bilbo crept forward slowly. He carefully picked the best way to climb back atop the dragon to look at the injury, which seemed quite terrible up close. The stench of blood overwhelmed Bilbo and he could feel the hot wet sticky substance coat the bottom of his feet.

He hesitantly reached forward, looking at the wounds in the dragon’s side. There were a few small tears in the dragon’s wing that were bleeding but they didn’t look very serious to Bilbo. Just underneath where the wing met the abdomen was where most of the blood had congealed. It didn't look good.

Bilbo used his damp scarf he’d been trying to carry water with to try to wash away the copious amounts of blood that was covering the wound. It didn’t do much and soon his scarf and his entire front side was soaked and stained with dragon blood.

“Hold still!” Bilbo commanded as the dragon squirmed. Bilbo’s hand found something protruding from the wound. He felt as if he were about to be picked up by the dragon and thrown viciously for his prodding, but suddenly the dragon stilled, making Bilbo's job a bit easier. His hand found the grip of a large spear that was lodged into the dragon just below the wing joint where its skin seemed to be the weakest. Bilbo had noted that its underbelly was encrusted with jewels and gold and remembered tales about dragons with soft underbellies finding hordes of treasure to sit upon and encrust their tender vulnerable stomachs. Well, at least this part hadn’t been so well protected by the gold and gems.

“I-I’ve found the problem!” Bilbo announced. “It’s going to hurt but I'm going to try to remove it.”

When Bilbo went to try to pull the thick spear from the dragon’s side, the dragon roared in pain. After an agonizing few moments the spear was pulled free and the dragon’s chest heaved as it caught its breath. Now the blood flowed freely and soaked everything Bilbo was wearing. It was hot and sticky and completely unpleasant.

“I-I don’t know how to stop the bleeding!” Bilbo admitted, trembling as he tried to regain his footing on the dragon

“Out of the way,” the dragon growled. As soon as Bilbo had stumbled off, the dragon lifted its wing excruciatingly. Its chest glowed and suddenly a burst of flame erupted from its mouth, aimed towards the wound.

“Wait!" Bilbo started, believing that would only make matters worse. The flame burned and smoldered as Bilbo shielded his face from the heat of the flame.

“Fire cannot kill a dragon,” the dragon responded in its terrifying voice and revealed the wound had been cauterized. It still looked gruesome but the wound had stopped bleeding so profusely.

“Is—Is that…will that be all right?” Bilbo asked. “Can you fly?”

The dragon stretched its wing as if trying it out.

“Perhaps,” the dragon now eyed him with curiosity. “Now…who are you and where do you come from?”

“I’m an unfortunate victim of your attacks,” Bilbo replied swiftly. “I come from Ered Luin where your rampage just destroyed a good deal of my home and…and probably killed more than a few friends and family members,” Bilbo explained, trying to keep his voice even. He didn’t want to betray his emotions to the dragon…he could show no weakness if he were to ever convince the dragon of anything.

“You are no dwarf,” the dragon remarked.

“Well spotted.” Bilbo nodded.

“Tell me, if you hail from those dwarf-infested mountains, why do you help me, the dragon who killed your friends and family?” the dragon asked.

Bilbo was not ready to admit to the fearsome dragon that his intentions were to use the dragon as a ride back to civilization because surely the dragon would not agree even if Bilbo had just saved his life. He merely pressed his lips together and shrugged.

“Why do you continue to entertain me with this conversation instead of killing me?” Bilbo replied, instead. He suddenly wondered if that response would get him killed. But at this point he was living on borrowed time anyway. At least if the dragon decided to kill him it’d most likely be a swift death.

“How did you come by this ring?” the dragon countered with yet another question. Bilbo pursed his lips, again not sure if he was willing to tell the dragon anything.

“How were you able to tell that I had it?” Bilbo countered as they continued to circle each other with questions that neither of them were answering. They both finally went silent and stared each other down for a few tension filled moments.

When it was made clear that neither of them were going to answer the questions the other posed, the dragon sighed.

“I am indebted to you, Ring-Bearer,” the dragon bowed his head. Bilbo nodded and clenched and unclenched his hands, feeling the dragon’s sticky blood between his fingers.

“If that’s the case then…p-perhaps you could take me to the nearest civilization? We can call it even and I will be out of your way with little fuss,” Bilbo suggested timidly. The dragon purred without an answer and dipped its neck to accommodate the hobbit. Bilbo looked questioningly at the dragon, wondering if it had all really been that simple.

“Get on,” the dragon offered when Bilbo didn’t move. Bilbo blinked a few times before nodding numbly. He approached the dragon carefully and looked confused as to where he should get on that would be safe enough for him. “Between the wings…you can situate yourself between the spines on my back.”

Bilbo pulled himself up onto the dragon, careful to avoid the freshly cauterized wound. He found the spikes were easy enough to hold on to and he settled himself between two large spines on the dragon’s back. The dragon stretched its wings and moved them as if to test them. After beating them a few times the dragon lifted off into the air. It staggered a few times, roaring in pain as it got used to using the freshly injured wing. Bilbo wanted to close his eyes and not watch as the ground began to disappear beneath the dragon.

_Who knew that it was so easy to get a dragon to obey commands? That it took something so simple as to help it with injuries and be in possession of a strange magic ring?_

“Just anywhere close enough to where I could get some help!” Bilbo told the dragon.

 _This was completely mad, trusting the dragon like this._ For all Bilbo knew the dragon could possibly be taking him further into danger and had no intention of taking him where he wished to go. But he supposed it was better than trying to face the mountains alone. Perhaps wherever they ended up Bilbo could escape and find somewhere he could ask for help finding a way home.

The wind whipped past his face and the cold air was biting once again. Bilbo tried to shield his face by pressing his chin down against his chest but that only caused him to get a large whiff of the stench of dragon blood. He tried not to gag and hoped he wouldn’t have to spend much time upon the dragon’s back. It was an entirely disgusting feeling.

He listened as the dragon’s wings beat to bring them higher in the air, and the combination of the lack of oxygen and the potent smell of the blood made it harder for Bilbo to breathe. The hobbit closed his eyes and held on to the dragon’s spine, nearly gagging with every breath he took. He honestly felt like he was going to vomit but there was nothing in his stomach to throw up.

This uncomfortable ride seemed to last for an eternity and Bilbo wished he could pass out like he did on the first half of their journey and wake up whenever the dragon was getting closer to dropping him off. He had no such luck and had to survive the biting cold winds and the putrid smell of dragon blood all the way to their destination.

When Bilbo finally realized they had begun their descent, he looked up to see them approaching a mountain. The dragon used its wings to slow  down as it got closer and finally glided through an opening in the mountain. Bilbo tried to catch glimpses of the sights they were flying past. It seemed to be an elaborate abandoned civilization.

They finally landed among a sea of gold and treasure. Bilbo’s eyes widened as he tried to take in everything that surrounded him. It was astounding.

The sound of them arriving had brought out other dragons that were seemingly dwelling there in this cavernous fallen kingdom as well. Bilbo trembled slightly wondering what was going to happen.

Had the dragon brought him all this way just to be a snack to be fought over in this nest?

“Off,” the dragon commanded as it lowered itself to the ground. Bilbo scrambled off the dragon as quickly as his wobbly legs could go.

“Wh-Where are we? I asked to be taken somewhere I could get help,” Bilbo uttered carefully, keeping his eyes on the other dragons who were slowly encroaching on them. “Not to be taken back to your nest.”

“Ah, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize where we are immediately. We are in the ancestral home of those filthy dwarves you live among, surely you would know that since you claim to be one of them,” the dragon purred with a bitter tone to its voice.

“W-Well, you see I’m still quite new to the whole culture,” Bilbo admitted, his hands going to find the ring in his pocket. He was happy to keep the dragon talking, hoping it wouldn’t decide to eat Bilbo right away. Perhaps he could figure a way to trick the dragon into not killing him or perhaps even letting him go. Only now it seemed like Bilbo would have to travel the entire world before setting eyes on Ered Luin again.  

“Then here is a history lesson for you,” the dragon started. “I am Smaug the Tyrannical and I claimed this mountain kingdom over a century ago. It has been home to me and countless other dragons who seek my protection. I am of the Alpha Species.”

“Alpha…” Bilbo muttered under his breath. He’d never heard of such a thing. The information his mother had collected mentioned nothing about ‘alpha dragons’ or nests of this size. Bilbo swallowed hard seeing more dragons emerge from every direction and forming a circle around them, eyeing them carefully.

“Tell me, why did you come to Ered Luin, when you clearly have such an amazing and fortified nest, O Smaug the Mighty?” Bilbo asked. Smaug gave a curious growl at the prestigious title Bilbo used and almost looked pleased.

“I had heard that there was talk of an attack on the mountain,” Smaug replied. “I had to make sure the vermin that once infested this place was swiftly dealt with so there was no possibility of an attempt to reclaim the mountain. I was…hindered. Make no mistake. Once I’ve fully recovered, I’m taking the rest of the dragons inside this mountain to completely obliterate every single one of those dwarves who live inside that mountain,” Smaug promised and Bilbo did everything he could to keep the sobs down that were threatening to escape.

“There…There’s been no talk of _launching an attack_ on this mountain that lies half a world away!” Bilbo desperately tried to defend the dwarves back at home. “I would know!” Smaug gave a low thoughtful sound as Bilbo babbled.

“Would you?” Smaug asked menacingly. “An outsider to that filthy race and you think they would tell you?” Bilbo nodded and when the dragon offered no further questions Bilbo finally felt it pertinent to ask his next question.

“How is it you know of Thorin Oakenshield?” Bilbo asked, cautiously. “Why is it he you sought out during the attack?”

“The question is: how much do you know of Thorin Oakenshield?” Smaug replied.

“I know him well enough,” Bilbo replied, his voice beginning to tremble.

“ _Obviously not_ ,” Smaug replied gloatingly. “Otherwise you would already know the answer to your question.” Bilbo’s jaw clenched as he swallowed, too scared to voice his guesses out loud. “Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror was once heir to this kingdom.” Bilbo closed his eyes for a moment, taking a shuddering breath before looking back up at the dragon.

“I-It’s impossible,” Bilbo stuttered. Even though he had begun to piece it together, to hear it spoken aloud seemed completely impossible. There was a bizarre twisting sensation in his chest and he struggled to breathe.

 _Thorin was heir to all of this?_ Bilbo thought as he looked around at the vast halls and gold as far as the eye could see. _He was heir to all this and never mentioned it?_

Part of him told him that none of this should come as a surprise. He’d known for years how important of a dwarf Thorin was there in the Blue Mountains and he thought he understood well enough why the dwarves looked to him for leadership. But Bilbo had never guessed the reasoning was anything like this. He just assumed Thorin’s forefathers had always dwelled there in Ered Luin and the only thing he and Dís and Fíli and Kíli were heir to was the settlement there.

“Do you doubt me, Ring-Bearer?” Smaug asked as Bilbo continued to look dumbfounded.

“I-It’s a lot to take in,” Bilbo explained. “Thorin never spoke of this.”

“Oh, I see. The shame is so overwhelming that Oakenshield does not wish to speak about it or acknowledge it. Pity…I am a little disappointed you didn’t already know who I was,” Smaug explained with an amused tone. “Though I suppose Oakenshield would not unload his life story upon just anyone,” Smaug contemplated in a goading voice.

“I’m not _just anyone_ to Thorin.” Bilbo’s voice cracked as he spoke. Smaug looked expectantly at him, provoking him to elaborate further. “Thorin is my husband.”

Smaug let out a loud roar that almost sounded like laughter.

“ _That’s_ impossible,” Smaug retorted.

“I-It’s not! We’re married! He crafted this blade for me as a wedding gift and the bead in my hair declares me a part of his family!” Bilbo was suddenly wondering if he should be divulging this kind of information to Smaug. _Well, it was too late to backpedal now._

“Amusing as that is,” Smaug gave another humored look towards Bilbo. “Thorin Oakenshield refused to divulge his past to his own mate?”

Bilbo was feeling very demeaned as the dragon carried on in his haughty tone.

“I-I’m sure he had his reasons,” Bilbo tried to assure the dragon.

“Though because you are the Ring-Bearer…it was a wise move on Oakenshield’s part to obtain the Ring-Bearer. He must only be using you…binding the two of you together in order to keep you close for when the time came to lay siege on this mountain,” Smaug thought aloud.

“I did not have this ring when Thorin and I met!” Bilbo felt nauseous at the mere thought of Smaug implying that Thorin only meant to use him. “In fact, it’s quite a recent acquirement.”

 _I should really stop telling the dragon anything,_ Bilbo mentally scolded himself as Smaug considered the hobbit briefly for another moment.

“It makes no difference now. You are the Ring-Bearer now, therefore you are _mine.”_

“Now, wait just a moment!” Bilbo sputtered. “I do not want to be this ‘Ring-Bearer.’ I want to go home. I do not care for this mountain and I do not like the thought of being _yours.”_

“You cannot part from me now. We are bound as Alpha and Ring-Bearer.”

“What is a Ring-Bearer to an Alpha dragon such as yourself?” Bilbo asked cautiously.

“Ring-Bearers usually command power over dragons,” Smaug explained, baring his teeth a little as he spoke.

“So that means…that means whoever wields the ring has power over any dragon?” Bilbo’s eyes widened as his fingers went to grab the ring once again and he swallowed.

“Don’t make me laugh,” Smaug hissed. _“You_ do not have the power to wield it to its full capacity. Only the maker of the Ring ever bore the power to command Alphas.”  

Bilbo took the ring out of his pocket and eyed it carefully.

“So I cannot command you to take me home and then give up the ring?” Bilbo asked thoughtfully.

“If you give up the ring I will kill you and whatever dwarves I find left in that mountain,” Smaug guaranteed.

“And if I don’t give up the ring, you’ll keep me alive?” Bilbo questioned.

“Neither I nor any other dragon can kill the one who bears the ring; it is the only thing keeping you alive at the moment, creature who lives among dwarves.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Bilbo asked. “You could have just let me give up the ring and be done with me. You’d have the ring for yourself.”

“A dragon cannot use the ring and a dragon is far more powerful with a bearer than without. You are bound to me now as I am to you.”

Bilbo mulled over his choices. He couldn’t leave, not now so far from home. Smaug was keeping him here as his prize…as his ‘ring-bearer’. Had the creature Gollum known of its powers...? Surely not. Bilbo wondered who the past Ring-Bearers had been and what kinds of dragons were of the ‘Alpha Species’ or if there were any other Alphas alive anymore.

But as long as he had the ring he was a prisoner to Smaug. However, if he tried to give up the ring and escape, Smaug would kill him.

Perhaps he could try to escape with the ring? Would the dragon be able to track him down with this supposed connection they had now? Bilbo wasn’t sure if he was prepared to attempt an escape with the ring.

Besides, he needed rest and food. If he was able to find that here in this mountain…with enough rest and time to think things through, maybe he could discover a loop-hole and a way out of this bind he found himself in.

**x**

Bilbo was able to escape the intimidating conversation with Smaug and left him to the other dragons, their squawks and roars overwhelming Bilbo. Smaug seemed to have no qualms with Bilbo leaving the treasure hall they had their conversation in and watched him leave without protest.

The hobbit found some staircases leading up and away from the treasure and Bilbo figured that’d be his best bet. Even though he was so tired and sore, he continued on. He had to find somewhere safe and away from the dragons.

Even though Smaug had explained that the dragons would not harm him while he was in possession of the ring, Bilbo would feel much safer away from the treasure and the nest of dragons.

His first priority was to find food. He’d never gone this long without eating properly. Dís had quite spoiled him back in Ered Luin and made sure he had his usual six to seven meals a day and now he hadn’t eaten since that morning before Smaug came. It felt like a lifetime ago.

He couldn’t wait to get home and help Dís cook a lovely dinner and feel Thorin pressed up against him as he worked at the kitchen counter. Bilbo lost himself imagining Thorin’s hands gently carding through his hair or his bristly kisses to his ears or cheek or lips to assure him everything was just fine. He had to get home. He had to see Thorin again.

His stomach quickly yanked him from his daydreams as it continued to ache in protest of the lack of food consumed in the past few days. But Bilbo had no clue if he’d find anything edible in a mountain that had been desolated over a century ago.

Why hadn’t Thorin thought to even mention this place to him? Bilbo shook his head as he staggered onwards. He was too hungry to try to think this through properly right that moment.

Food first.

He continued down endless dark corridors for as long as his legs would carry him. Bilbo attempted to remember which turns he’d took and how many staircases he climbed but it was no use. His overloaded, exhausted mind could not keep track of which corridors he went down. Eventually he found a quiet, safe corner that he was sure was far away from the dragons and their hoard and Bilbo collapsed in exhaustion and fell asleep.

**x**

Bilbo woke with a jump as he looked around, startled by whatever he’d been dreaming about. It took his mind a moment to process that he was not at home in Ered Luin. It was completely dark still, the same way it had been when he’d collapsed.

He hated the perpetual darkness of the mountains. There was no way for Bilbo to tell what time it was or how long he’d been unconscious. Bilbo groaned; his head ached and he still felt exhausted no matter how long he’d been asleep. He felt lightheaded as he pulled himself up to stand.

Bilbo was desperate to find food or at least a source of water. Now it seemed he’d probably die in this labyrinth of a kingdom in search of sustenance rather than at the claws of a dragon.

After a few more hours of stumbling through corridors and climbing more staircases, he finally found what looked like residences there in the mountain. Stopping in front of a door that was open, Bilbo timidly pushed forward, wondering what he might find. Luckily there were no decomposing bodies or anything of the sort, much to Bilbo’s relief.

Eventually Bilbo found a spigot in what looked like a washroom that gushed water after some coaxing. For the first few moments it spewed mud and rust before finally looking like something Bilbo could use to drink and wash away the blood that was still caked on him and the clothes he wore.

The water was freezing cold and Bilbo figured he should boil the water anyway just to make sure it would be safe to use.

He found what looked like a fireplace in the residence and a small pot that could be used for boiling. It took him another half an hour to finally get a fire started. He gathered things that could be used as kindling and set to work starting the fire. He’d found a flint in what must have been the kitchen and Bilbo sighed in relief as he made his way back to the fireplace. However, it had been quite some time since he had had to start his own fire. In Ered Luin he was used to Dís, Fíli, Kíli, or Thorin doing it for him.

“Come on, you’re not totally useless without them around,” Bilbo tried to encourage himself as he worked with the flint and kindling.

Eventually sparks caught and started to smoke and Bilbo was quick to set the small pot over the fire, hoping that it would boil quickly.

He took the time for it to boil to search the residence for anything edible. He didn’t find much but he did find a small stash of beans and rice in the residence and Bilbo nearly wept in relief.

Bilbo used some of the miscellaneous utensils he’d found to ladle out a little bit of water for himself for drinking water before pouring some of the rice into the boiling water. He waited for the water he’d pulled from the pot to cool but soon he was gulping down the warm water, relieved to have something to parch his dry mouth.  

As soon the rice was finished cooking, Bilbo eagerly scooped the rice into a chipped stone bowl and ate it hungrily. The rice was chewy but Bilbo devoured the little sustenance he had found.

After he had finished he quickly went to fill the pot again with water to boil and as he waited for that he explored the rest of the residence. He felt intrusive digging through a family’s home like this even if the place hadn’t been inhabited in over a century.

He sifted through closets and chests for something clean to wear. Nothing was very appealing. They were all dusty and filthy from years of abandonment. Eventually he found some decent clothes and even though they were much too big for him he decided that would be the best he could do for now.

He went back to the now boiling water and brought the pot to the washroom. Bilbo shed his dragon-bloodstained clothing and began to wash himself from head to toe with the warm water.

What he’d give for soap and a relaxing soak in a tub, but those were luxuries he couldn’t get at the moment. At least he’d have the sticky blood washed off of him and that was the best he could manage.

Once all the water was gone Bilbo tried to dry himself with some of the less dusty, unusable garments and finally changed into the clothing he had found.

The trousers were too big in the waist for him and much too long but they were warm. Next was the linen shirt which was also much too big for him. It hung loosely on his shoulders and the sleeves went down past his hands. He was reminded of the first night he spent in Ered Luin and the clothes Thorin had lent him to wear. Bilbo bit back tears as he tied the laces on the shirt and kept searching for anything else that would keep him warm. The mountain was terribly cold.

He gathered up a nest of furs and woolen things he’d found and tried to relax for a moment.

The hobbit sighed, wrapping his arms around his knees. Now that he finally had a moment’s peace his mind returned to thoughts of Thorin and Frodo. He missed them terribly. Bilbo longed to see Frodo’s smiling face again and feel Thorin’s arms around him. These thoughts haunted him for a long time and he wondered when or if he’d ever see them again. Smaug did not seem keen on letting him go anytime soon, and with those distressing thoughts Bilbo soon fell asleep.

**x**

When he woke up, something was tugging on his ears and hair.

“Frodo, stop—” Bilbo moaned turning over. He blinked blearily before sitting up and once again realizing where he was. The hobbit discovered the source of the tugging were two curious Terrible Terrors. The dragons sat and watched Bilbo curiously. “Erm, hello.” Bilbo sat stiffly, cautious of the tiny dragons. He knew they were small and mostly harmless but they could hurt if you upset them. Bilbo remembered one summer when he was a child he’d been burned on his right leg. If he looked close enough he could still see the scarring there.

Eventually the dragons became bored with Bilbo and disappeared and the hobbit realized how much his stomach pained him with how hungry he still was.

He set about making himself more rice and Bilbo realized how much he sorely missed proper food, but for now this would have to make do.

Today he was going to do more exploring of this place. If this had truly once been Thorin’s home, Bilbo wanted to know everything he could about it.

His mind still whirred with ways he could outsmart the dragon, refusing to give up hope on finding a way home. But in the meantime, Bilbo could distract himself by poking around the kingdom. Even though it felt a little intrusive to poke around in Thorin’s history, Bilbo felt like he deserved to know a little more. If Thorin had kept this all secret from him, Bilbo deserved to explore everything there was about this kingdom.

When Bilbo ventured out of the residence, he found his hand anxiously feeling for the ring. Just then, he heard a few dragon noises echoing from the treasure halls below.

He looked back, hoping he’d be able to find his way back to this place where he at least knew he had a bed and food. He resolved to create a mental map of the place as he set off.

Bilbo spent a long time wandering the ever-confusing pathways of the abandoned kingdom and soon he found himself in what looked like much more elaborate and grand area of the mountain. Something in the pit of his stomach twisted as he explored the luxurious-looking rooms with elaborately designed furnishings that were tarnished with neglect and age. He attempted to read some of the runes inscribed above some entryways but his Khuzdul was not spectacular.

He had been diligently working with Balin and Dís trying to learn the new language but it hadn’t quite clicked in his mind just yet. Even young Frodo seemed to have a better grasp on it than he did.

However, one set of inscribed runes he was able to read.

_Thorin._

He recognized those runes in an instant and Bilbo’s heartbeat quickened as he stared at the door beneath those runes.

Seeing Thorin’s name here only solidified the dragon’s tale…that Thorin had been lying to him all this time.

Well, not _lying_. But conveniently avoiding telling Bilbo the truth, and if he ever saw the dwarf again he was going to give him a piece of his mind.

Taking a deep breath, Bilbo stepped forward and pushed the door open. It revealed a large living chamber, very impressive for a prince of the kingdom. The area itself had to be about the same size as their home in Ered Luin. Bilbo couldn’t even imagine what a young prince would do with all this extra space.

Bilbo anxiously moved past the antechamber and back further to find Thorin’s bedroom. It was just as lavish as the rest of the chamber and when Bilbo spotted the unmade bed, he smiled to himself.

This had been Thorin’s room. _A century ago_ , Bilbo had to remind himself. It just…seemed bizarre.

Bilbo spent at least an hour in the room exploring every nook and cranny of the bedroom. He pulled out some of the clothes in the wardrobe and marveled at how well they fit him. Granted they were still a little big but Bilbo didn’t hesitate to wrap himself in a handsome fur-lined overcoat.

On Thorin the hem of the jacket would barely hit his hips but for Bilbo it covered down to the tops of his thighs. Bilbo was just grateful for the warmth it provided. It still seemed a bit musty to him but he hoped if he aired it out it would lose the stale smell.

He’d uncovered what looked like a family portrait; there were two dwarves who must have been Thorin’s parents with three smaller children. Bilbo immediately picked out the stern looking young dwarf to be Thorin and the youngest daughter was Dís, he had no question. The other middle child must have been Thorin’s younger brother that had died in battle.

Bilbo recalled the evening Thorin divulged some of his past to Bilbo: only that there had been a great struggle between his people and the Orcs, and the battle in which Thorin had lost his grandfather and his younger brother as well as earned the title Oakenshield.

Tales of warriors doing heroic things seemed so far away and so distant…so fictional, almost. Yet his husband was a great warrior and had been in gruesome battle before. It didn’t seem like it could be possible. It didn’t seem possible that his soft, romantic dwarf had taken part in such gory battle and had emerged victorious despite losing those dear to him.

Bilbo realized that was something he’d have to ask the dragon about. How did it know the name Oakenshield? Surely Thorin had earned the name after the desolation of this kingdom so how was it the dragon knew Thorin’s battle-earned name of Oakenshield?

He folded up the portrait and tucked it safely in a pocket in the fur overcoat he’d found.

Bilbo finished exploring the room by shaking out the musty bedding and making Thorin’s bed. He’d decided this would be his new residence. If this was where Thorin spent his days as a young dwarf, this was where Bilbo wanted to stay until he could figure out a way back home.

He eventually left the room and went in search of more food and other things he could use to survive.

Bilbo returned later that night lugging extra sacks of grain, beans, and rice he had found along with a few larger pots. He’d stumbled upon the royal kitchens and found plenty of supplies to keep him alive for a little while longer.

He went about making another simple meal and Bilbo couldn’t even tell what meal of the day it was. There was nothing from inside the mountain that could help him tell what time of day it was.

At least in Ered Luin he could accurately gauge the time by how busy it was and how many dwarves were still about. There were also a few small skylights that filtered in light from high up above. In the few years Bilbo had lived in Ered Luin, he’d scouted out the best places to soak up what little sunlight there was drifting down into the mountain. Occasionally he’d even convince Thorin or one of the other dwarves he knew to accompany him and Frodo out of the mountain for an afternoon in the sun.

Frodo was still a growing hobbit and to deprive him of the simple joys of enjoying a sunny afternoon didn’t seem right. Bilbo’s mind lingered on those sunny afternoons, especially the ones when Thorin would join them. He’d sit with Thorin and lazily work on his braiding skills, placing flowers in the braids he’d finished. They’d laze about, Bilbo idly tracing patterns into Thorin’s palms while Frodo rolled in the grass and picked flowers for Aunt Dís.

Bilbo jumped when he realized the food he’d let simmer in one of the pots was starting to burn. He couldn't afford to waste food. Quickly he pulled the pot from the fire and absently began to scoop his slightly overcooked meal into a bowl. He mindlessly chewed the tasteless food as his mind tried to recall the sunny memories he had just been reliving but everything seemed so dull and far away now.

Once he’d finished his luncheon or dinner or whatever it was, Bilbo pulled out the ring he had found in the Misty Mountains and turned it over in his hands a couple times. He couldn’t believe a tiny object could somehow have any sway over the giant dragon who had brought him here, or any dragon for that matter.

Bilbo closed his fingers around the ring and stuffed it back into his pocket with a sigh.

He didn’t know whether to be thankful for it or despise the wretched thing. This small object was all that was standing between him and death by dragons, but it was also the item keeping him from going home. But surely he wouldn’t have made it through the mountains, so maybe it was for the best that he’d found the ring and was brought to this mountain.

A little while later he settled in what used to be Thorin’s bed. He laid down and stared at the canopy above him and tried to imagine Thorin there along with him. Bilbo tried to imagine why Thorin had hidden this part of him.

Was it like the dragon had said? That he felt so much shame he did not like to admit that this was once who he was and he had lost it all? Bilbo would have found no shame in that. He found it admirable that Thorin came from…this and had it all taken from him and was still able to prosper and help his people.

Bilbo turned on his side and huffed.

Yes, this was all taken from Thorin by the dragon that now had Bilbo trapped here. Fate truly was cruel, wasn’t it?

He wondered how Thorin was doing. Surely the dwarves all thought he was dead by now, and for Thorin to believe Bilbo had been killed by the same dragon who had taken this homeland from him was upsetting.

It was all horrendously frustrating. Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut and sighed.

One way or another he’d find his way back to his husband and nephew and the rest of his dwarf family.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the bit of a wait! I've recently gotten a new job and I've been busy adjusting and too exhausted to write but here we finally are!! 
> 
> Along with feeling a little drained from work, we're entering the chapters that are a little more difficult for me to write since we're leaving the senseless fluff for actual plot, but I am excited to finally move forward in the story~ 
> 
> If anyone is interested as to when the next update is coming, you can now track progress on new chapters [here on my tumblr!](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com/everything#fics)
> 
> As always thanks to [Kate](http://bungobaggins.tumblr.com) for being a fantastic beta (I fear what my writing would be like without her wonderful help~).
> 
> And finally thank you so much to everyone who's commented/liked/reblogged!! It all means so much to me and always boosts my motivation!!


	10. Rebuilding

The first few weeks after Bilbo’s apparent death were the hardest on Thorin. He hardly even ate or spoke and avoided Frodo as the young hobbit recovered. Most of the time he remained locked away in his bedroom, thoughts clouded with some of the worst grief he’d ever felt.

Dís stepped in as a temporary parent with Thorin lacking the mental capacity to be a capable guardian. It devastated Frodo even further with Bilbo gone and Thorin unresponsive and avoiding him; he was distraught. He spent many nights curled up in Dís’ lap in her room, crying himself to sleep.

However, Dís was still fully occupied with trying to get Ered Luin back to normal as soon as possible. When Dís wasn’t able to care for Frodo, Fíli and Kíli stepped in and did their best to help out.

Dís saw the three off one afternoon, sending them to the market to pick things up for dinner before going to Thorin’s room. Dís knocked gently before pushing the door open to the mostly dark room. Her brother was laid out on his bed and poked his head up to see who had entered his room. Seeing it was Dís he lay back down again.

“Thorin, I’m going to make us tea,” Dís called softly. “Why don’t you come join me?”

Thorin didn’t move or respond and Dís sighed, seemingly expecting that response.

“Listen, Thorin…I know you’re mourning,” Dís started. Thorin rolled over trying to avoid the conversation. “It’s perfectly normal to do so. But Frodo is too. I think it would be best if you talked to him. Your grief could be overcome together.”

“It’d be best if he returned to the Shire to his own people,” Thorin spoke softly.

 _“What?”_ Dís blinked in the dim room.

“It’s where his real family lives. They’re better suited to raise him. Besides, Bilbo wanted Frodo to grow up in the Shire anyway.” Thorin spoke with his back to Dís. “That’s where he should be.”

“He wanted him to grow up in the Shire with you and him.” Dís rolled her eyes. “We’re his family too, Thorin.”

Thorin sighed softly and didn’t reply.

“Mahal, Thorin. _Look at me,”_ Dís snapped quietly. Thorin turned over and shifted slowly to face his sister. “You and Bilbo have been raising Frodo the past four years. If you think he’s going to want to go back to the Shire _without you_ , you’re mad.”

Thorin slowly sat up, avoiding his sister’s gaze.

“I’m _not_ suited to raise him. Not without Bilbo here,” Thorin explained, shakily. “Not when all I can do is lie around and think about how I’m never going to…” Thorin’s voice died in his throat.

“Your grief is understandable.” Dís gently rubbed Thorin’s shoulder. “But you can’t abandon Frodo like this. It’s selfish.”

“You don’t understand, Dís.” Thorin sighed.

“You don’t think I understand what it’s like to lose a husband and fear that you’ll never be able to be a satisfactory parent without the other half of you there to help guide you?” Dís shot, a little hostile. Thorin’s eyes widened as he sat up shaking his head.

“Dís…I-I didn’t mean to…” Thorin muttered

“I had to raise Fíli and Kíli on my own after _my_ husband died, so I know better than anyone what you’re going through. But when that happened I had you to help me. I am trying my best to help you now, but you have to let me.”

“How do you do it, Dís?” Thorin asked hoarsely. “Continue on the way you do?”

“I still miss him everyday. That part won’t lessen,” Dís admitted. “There’s nothing I can tell you that will make this disappear,” she explained. “There was a time after he died where I was in your same position. I didn’t think I could raise two young dwarves on my own. Eventually I realized I’d be doing his memory a disservice if I didn’t raise our children the best I could. It’s a way of honoring their memories. And I had you. Just as you have me now,” Dís told him. “I just want you to know I’m here and I want to help.”

“I still can’t imagine doing this without Bilbo.” Thorin’s voice cracked as he put his head in his hands. Dís gently rubbed her brother’s back.

“You’re not alone, Thorin,” Dís assured him quietly. “In time, wounds will heal. They’ll leave scars but you don’t have to let your old wounds continue to pain you. I’m able find joy and happiness through Fíli and Kíli…they’re what I have left to remind me of him,” Dís told her brother.

“E-Every time I look at Frodo all I can think about is how I’ve disappointed him and taken Bilbo from him,” Thorin explained. “How can I find joy in that?”

“You cannot blame yourself for this,” Dís told him. “At some point you _must_ learn to forgive yourself.”

“I don’t think I can do that.” Thorin rubbed his eyes and bowed his head.

“Please just try talking to Frodo. Fíli and Kíli are going to come home from market soon and Frodo went with them,” Dís gently explained. “Try to at least come have dinner with us.”

Thorin gave a small hum.

“I’ve also sent word to Rivendell,” Dís told her brother and Thorin frowned at her. “I thought perhaps if Bilbo had made it…and fell over the Misty Mountains…perhaps they could keep an eye out. It’s a long shot but…”

“Thank you,” Thorin murmured.

“Dinner will be ready in a little while,” Dís reminded him.

Finally she got up to leave and closed the door behind her. Thorin lay back down and felt warm tears drip from the corners of his eyes down his temples and into his hairline. He focused his breathing.

_In. Out. In. Out._

Thorin tried grappling with what Bilbo would say to him in this situation. He knew the hobbit wouldn’t blame him for their circumstances but Thorin couldn’t help but feel as if it were his fault. In fact, they’d probably argue about it and a small smile appeared at his lips. Thorin would give anything just to have the chance just to _argue_ with him again and he felt more tears leak from his eyes.

Eventually he got up and walked to the washroom.

He realized he looked terrible. There were dark circles under his eyes and his eyes were red and puffy. His hair was tangled and knotted and Thorin sighed at his reflection. He washed his face and started to comb through his hair. As he was finishing putting his hair into a loose braid he heard Fíli and Kíli downstairs. Thorin gave one last sigh and pulled the door open, turning to head downstairs to greet his nephews. Fíli and Kíli stopped and stared at Thorin as he reached the bottom of the stairs, wondering what was going to happen.

“Come here, Frodo,” Thorin murmured and Frodo slowly made his way over to Thorin. He was hesitant at first his lip quivering.

Finally Frodo closed the gap between them and he wrapped his arms around the dwarf’s chest.

“I’m so sorry,” Thorin whispered. He could feel more tears start to fall as he felt Frodo bury his face in his chest. Thorin had no idea what else to say. Frodo pulled away and wiped his eyes.

“Why are you apologizing?” Frodo asked shakily.

“I promised I would protect you—”

“It’s my fault,” Frodo told him, quickly.

“Frodo,” Thorin gasped softly. “No, of course it isn’t.”

“Uncle Bilbo was trying to save me. I thought I could fight the dragon and I was wrong. He wasn’t like the other dragons…but I had to try. I’ve had so many things taken from me because of dragons I had to…” Frodo explained. “Aunt Dís said he climbed onto the dragon to get it to drop me and got caught on its back and was carried off trying to save me. He’s gone because I didn’t listen to you or Uncle Bilbo.”

“Frodo,” Thorin sighed again, kneeling down so he met Frodo’s eyes on the same level. “This is not your fault.” Thorin gently stroked the hobbit’s curly hair. “Promise me you won’t blame yourself for this.” Frodo’s lip quivered as he shook his head. “Frodo, please.”

“Well, it’s not your fault either,” Frodo finally replied, sniffling a bit, and Thorin sighed.

“How about we agree not to blame ourselves?” Thorin asked quietly. “For Bilbo’s sake.”

Frodo’s jaw clenched and he nodded, holding back more tears. Thorin reached up and gently carded a hand through Frodo’s curls.

“I’m glad to see you’ve healed so quickly,” Thorin remarked with a watery smile. “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost the both of you.”

“I’m sorry,” Frodo muttered again. “I never meant—”

“I know,” Thorin soothed him quickly, pressing his forehead against Frodo’s. “It’s all right, Frodo.”

The young hobbit sniffled and buried his face in Thorin’s shoulder and letting out a few strangled sobs. The kitchen was quiet and Fíli and Kíli exchanged a few anxious glances until Frodo finally calmed down.

“Now,” Thorin smiled gently, trying to coax a smile out of Frodo, “I believe Aunt Dís said something about dinner?”

“Yes…I am hungry,” Frodo gave a shaky sigh. Thorin’s small smile broadened, feeling like a little sense of normalcy returned to him. At least Frodo had not lost his appetite.

“When are you not?” Thorin quietly laughed as he stood straight again. “Come now, let’s eat some dinner and we’ll both feel a bit better, all right?”

It was a quiet meal, only the sound of utensils clinking against their plates filled the air. No one dared to bring up Bilbo and no one felt as if it were appropriate to bring up any other lighter topics at the table.

Once they finished Dís gave a soft sigh as she stood up and began to collect the dirty plates. Frodo gave quick glances over to Thorin to see if he would immediately retreat back to his bedroom once dinner was over.

Thorin caught Frodo’s anxious glances a few times and seemed to finally decide on something he’d been thinking over during their meal. He stood from the table but instead of turning and heading back upstairs without another word, he pulled himself to the living area and sat down. Thorin looked over at the others with a tired expression.

“Come sit,” Thorin told his nephews. “There’s something we need to discuss and I probably should have done so a long time ago. Frodo, you too.”

Dís looked at him with a concerned look on her face.

“Thorin, what are you planning on telling them exactly?” Dís asked softly.

“What’s…What’s happening?” Fíli asked anxiously, sensing immediately that something was wrong especially with the quiet tone of voice his mother was using. “What are we discussing?”

“We need to talk about the dragon that attacked Ered Luin a couple weeks ago,” Thorin started.

“You knew the dragon didn’t you?” Kíli asked as he sat next to Thorin. “The way you…you and ‘Amad have been talking…”

Thorin nodded, his eyes drawn over to the fire roaring in the hearth.

“What happened?” Fíli asked softly, sitting down as well. Frodo sat down between Thorin and Kíli.

Thorin began the tale about their people and the prosperous kingdom of Erebor, accompanied by nearly every detail he could remember about their homeland. He explained about the dragon coming and robbing them of their kingdom and Fíli and Kíli looked sickened by the fact that this had been the dragon that had visited them only weeks beforehand to end their line.

Frodo had curled up beside Thorin and Thorin had his arm draped comfortingly around Frodo’s shoulders.

Once he finished, the entire room stayed quiet for several moments.

“That’s enough talk of death for tonight, Thorin,” Dís broke the silence as she came over to the living room. “It’s time for Frodo to take his bath.” Dís reached for Frodo’s hand. Frodo slowly pulled himself from Thorin’s side and reached for Dis’ outstretched hand.

“You’ve kept this from us this whole time?” Kíli looked between his mother and his uncle.

“I wanted to tell you, but you were children,” Dís explained quietly.

“There were tales we’ve heard since we were babes…” Fíli looked to his uncle. “Tales you told us about a kingdom usurped by a terrible dragon.”

“Tales of Erebor,” Thorin confirmed. Fíli and Kíli went silent again with a sigh.

“Come, Frodo,” Dís squeezed Frodo’s hand. “Let’s get you ready for bed.”

Frodo despondently followed after his aunt, leaving Thorin with Fíli and Kíli.

“I can’t believe you never told us those were tales of your own childhood,” Kíli grumbled.

“I’m sorry,” Thorin apologized. “I never wanted it to be a shameful secret…”

“Well, we must do something,” Kíli decided as he stood up.

“There’s nothing to do,” Thorin argued. “There’s no taking the mountain back from that dragon. Smaug has taken my homeland, my people, now my husband. I will not lose you two or any other kin to that dragon!” Thorin raised his voice.

“It’s your birthright! It’s…it’s our birthright,” Kíli replied as he turned to his brother. Fíli shook his head. “Summon the other dwarf families! They’ll help.”

“Things are not that simple, Kíli,” Thorin growled, trying to refrain from raising his voice again. “They will not answer the call…and even if they did…”

“Thorin,” Kíli begged.

“Enough,” Thorin snapped as he stood up. “I’m done discussing it for the night.” He left his two nephews and retreated upstairs to his room. Dís stepped out of Frodo’s room as Thorin reached the top of the stairs.

“You could have told me you were going to do that,” Dís muttered as she went about folding one of the fur throws that went on Frodo’s bed. “Give me some warning next time.”

“Sorry,” Thorin muttered. “I just thought they deserved to know now. Frodo too.” Thorin looked past Dís into Frodo’s bedroom. “Deserves to know why Smaug came here and why…” Thorin trailed off.

“Frodo will be out of his bath soon if you want to say goodnight.” Dís nodded back into the room.

“I’m tired,” Thorin shook his head. “I’m just going to…” Thorin gestured to his bedroom. Dís gave an exasperated sigh.

“I really think you should try to return to being a little more involved with Frodo,” Dís told him softly. “It’ll help you, I know it will. It’ll help Frodo too, you know. He’s still suffering just as much as you are.”

“I know, Dís. I just…I still can’t look at him without being so incredibly sad about Bilbo…I’m…I’m just going to go to bed. Tell him I said goodnight,” Thorin sighed in a defeated tone.

As Thorin closed the door behind him the door to the washroom opened up. Frodo’s lip quivered and he stepped forward and pressed his face into Dis’ chest.

“Come on.” Dís gently patted Frodo’s damp curls. “Bed time.” Dís tucked Frodo into bed and adjusted the bedding and pillows. “You must be tired after today,” Dís gently cooed. “Did you have fun going to market with Fíli and Kíli?” Frodo continued to frown and looked away from Dís. “What’s wrong, Frodo?”

“D-Does Uncle Thorin still like me?” Frodo’s quiet voice trembled.

“Why would you ask something like that?” Dís chuckled softly. “Of course he still likes you. He loves you. He still loves you very, very much.”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” Frodo muttered.

“Why would you say that?” Dís sighed stroking Frodo’s curls.

“Uncle Thorin said he feels sad when he looks at me. He only liked me because of Uncle Bilbo. Now Uncle Bilbo is dead and…and I’m not a dwarf. I don’t belong here.”

“Just because Bilbo’s gone doesn’t mean Thorin would stop loving you,” Dis assured him. “Of course not. We all love you. You’re our family.”

Frodo stayed silent and continued to look miserable.

“Is this about missing the Shire?” Dís asked softly, starting to dread that this was headed in the direction Thorin had predicted. Maybe Frodo wanted to go back and live with his hobbit relatives after all.

“No,” Frodo shook his head. “I just want Bilbo back.”

“I know,” Dís tutted gently running her fingers across his damp forehead. “Would you…would you want to return to the Shire?”

Frodo shrugged.

“I don’t think so. It’ll only remind me of Bilbo and my parents. Brandy Hall is overcrowded and I don’t want to go back and live there. I mean it’s not bad. I used to love going there as a child during Yuletide. But living there is a different matter,” Frodo explained.

“I’m…I’m glad to hear you don’t want to leave us,” Dís admitted. “You’re as much a son to me as Fíli and Kíli are and if I lost you after we lost Bilbo…”

Frodo’s lip quivered and Dís reached for his hand and squeezed gently.

“Thank you, Aunt Dís,” Frodo muttered.

“Now, about your Uncle Thorin…I _know_ he feels the same way about you as I do,” Dís assured the boy.

“Are you sure? Anymore he can barely even look at me…” Frodo suppressed a small sob.

“He’s having a hard time adjusting to life without your uncle, that’s all,” Dís explained. “I know you are too. It’s hard for all of us.”

“But why would he avoid me so much if he’s having a hard time? Maybe I could help him,” Frodo muttered. “Maybe he could help me,” Frodo added even quieter.

“I know,” Dís nodded. “It’s how he’s been able to cope with his grief, by locking himself away. But I told him the same thing you just told me. That you could help each other, but to him I’m just his nosy little sister. He doesn’t like me bossing him around.” Frodo sniffled and gave Dís a small smile.

“Are you really his _younger_ sister?” Frodo asked curiously.

“Did you think I was older than him?” Dís said in a mockingly scandalized voice. Frodo nodded. “Why if I were a dwarrowdam who was a little more self-conscious about her appearance I would be a little offended!”

Frodo’s small smile broke into a grin.

“No! I didn’t mean that!” Frodo giggled and Dís gave a relieved sigh to see Frodo laughing again. “I mean that you seem more…”

“Mature? Responsible? Less of an idiot?” Dís offered and Frodo nodded. “I know,” Dís smiled. “I appreciate it.”

She leaned in and kissed Frodo’s forehead. “I’ll give him a stern talking to, I promise,” Dís assured him. Frodo sat up and wrapped his arms around Dís as he buried his face into her shoulder.

“Thank you, Aunt Dís,” Frodo muttered.

“Of course,” Dís sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of Frodo’s head.

**x**

The next day Dís was determined to talk to Thorin once again and if this time it didn’t get through his thick skull she’d have to knock sense into him.

She planned on cornering Thorin in his room before the boys woke up but when she knocked and opened the door Thorin was gone.

 _He spends three weeks locked up in his room and the one time I need to find him he’s already up and out,_ Dís sighed. She closed the door again and turned to go get herself ready for the day.

Downstairs Fíli was already up and whittling something on the sofa in the living area.

“You’re up early,” Dís muttered.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Fíli replied, sluggishly. Dís hummed as she set about making breakfast.

“What are your plans for the day?” Dís asked through a yawn.

“Told Bofur I was going to help him with some of the reconstruction,” Fíli told her. “I’ll be glad to get my mind off of things, I think.”

“What about Kíli?” Dís questioned.

“Dunno,” Fíli shrugged.

“Someone needs to stay here and watch after Frodo. I’ve got a meeting this morning about the reconstruction around the markets and then I’ve got another one this afternoon that Thorin should probably be attending about getting things back to normal again,” Dís told her eldest son. “I don’t want to burden him with those things right now when he needs to be looking after his own mental state and Frodo. He’ll be furious if he knows I’m going in his place though, so don’t mention it to him.”

“I won’t,” Fíli promised. “So why won’t you have Thorin watch after Frodo this afternoon?” Fíli asked. “He should be able to help out a little now.”

“That’s what I was planning but he’s already gone. Like he _knew_ I was going to want to talk to him this morning about how he’s been acting around Frodo,” Dís growled at the eggs in the pan she was using.

“Of course he is,” Fíli rolled his eyes as he put his things away and stood up. “Frodo could probably look after himself today if Kíli has plans. I mentioned the reconstruction to him last night and Kíli seemed like he wanted to join me.”

“Frodo needs someone here,” Dís shook her head. “I know he’s more mature than he used to be but right now he needs someone…and you’re not taking him to go work on reconstruction.”

“No, I wasn’t going to suggest that.” Fíli frowned. “He was already acting a little weird when he spotted some of the bad damage over there by the markets yesterday when we went. He’s not ready to see all that,” Fíli explained as he came over to see how he could help with breakfast. Dís gave a defeated sigh.

“I wish there was something more I could do, but I’m not the boy’s mother,” Dís sighed. “Which is why Thorin needs to be here…he’s the closest thing to a parent Frodo has now.”

“Frodo loves you like a mother as he loves Kíli and I as brothers,” Fíli assured his mother.

“It’s not enough,” Dís explained. “He looked absolutely wrecked last night when Thorin wouldn’t come in to say goodnight to him. He asked me if Thorin even liked him anymore.” Dís’ heart clenched even saying the words.

 _“Mahal,”_ Fíli sighed.

“I know.”

It was silent for a bit while the two of them worked on preparing breakfast and setting the table. Dís accidentally set an extra plate out for Bilbo and felt her heart constrict. She was still so used to the routine of having Bilbo there she made the mistake often over the past few weeks and she wondered how long it’d take to get out of the habit.  

Soon Kíli exhaustedly pulled himself into the kitchen at the sound and smell of breakfast being made.

“Want me to go fetch Frodo?” Kíli asked after giving a large yawn.

“Yes, but first,” Dís stopped him as she started to plate up breakfast. “What are you doing today?”

“I was thinking I’d go with Fíli since he said he was going to help with reconstruction,” Kíli told her with a shrug.

“Would you mind staying here with Frodo?” Dís pleaded. “Fíli can go, but Frodo needs someone here and I’m going to be at meetings all day.”

“Can’t Thorin look after him? Seems like they need some good bonding time after all this and since Thorin still doesn’t seem up to being a part of society just yet…” Kíli pleaded. Dís shook her head.

“He’s already up and gone, I don’t know where,” Dís explained to her youngest son.

“Oh, of course he is,” Kíli growled.  “Yes, all right. I can stay with him today,” Kíli agreed.

“Thank you,” Dís sighed. “Now, you may go wake him.”

**x**

Between meetings Dís was able to find her way over to where the Blacksmith’s shop used to be and right away she found Dwalin picking through the rubble and debris left in the shop.

“Where’s my brother?” Dís asked him as Dwalin looked up and gave her a nod in greeting.

“Around here somewhere…I was surprised when he came to find me this morning to see what could be done about the shop and the…er—general state of things,” Dwalin gestured towards the rest of the city.

Dís hissed a few curse words in Khuzdul and Dwalin raised his eyebrows.

“I wish he’d talk to me before just deciding things,” Dís growled.

“What’s happened now?” Dwalin asked, setting down a particularly large piece of stone.

“Oh, not much other than deciding to finally leave his room. I asked him to say goodnight to Frodo last night and it was like pulling teeth.” Dís growled. “Oh and he also decided to tell the boys about Erebor last night without any warning to me at all.”

Dwalin gave an understanding hum and another nod when Thorin finally appeared covered in stone dust and some scratches.

“There you are,” Dís called him over. Dís could see her brother begin to consider turning back around and running the opposite direction but he quickly conceded that it would be useless and made his way over to his sister and cousin. Dwalin quickly disappeared to allow the two siblings some privacy.

“Thorin, we need to talk,” Dís started with a stern look on her face.

“Yes we do,” Thorin nodded and Dís raised her eyebrows in surprise wondering if Thorin was about to admit what he’s been doing has been wrong. “I need to see about getting materials for repairs here and perhaps some new tools for the shop.”

Dís’ frown deepened.

“No, that is not what we need to be talking about right now,” Dís shook her head. _“Mahal’s beard,_ Thorin. This is about your family.”

“I’m sorry,” Thorin started sardonically. “I’m trying to help get my people back on their feet after this attack after locking myself up for weeks. Excuse me for finally being able to pull myself out of bed to do something productive.”

Dís wanted to strangle her brother.

“Wonderful. But this is about Frodo. You’ve got an upset child at home that you’re refusing to deal with.” Dís put her hands on her hips. Thorin frowned and avoided eye contact as he looked over at his shop.

“I’m going to need to travel to Bree to start earning money to buy the supplies we need to rebuild.” Thorin ignored her statements and continued on as if he hadn’t heard her.

“No.” Dís folded her arms. “No, _you_ are not going to Bree. You’ll have Dwalin do it…or any other dwarf. But not you.” Thorin narrowed his eyes at his sister and looked like he was about to protest when Dís interrupted him. “Do you know last night after you refused to wait up and say goodnight to him that he asked if you still liked _him_ anymore? Hm?” Thorin pursed his lips. “I know this has been hard for you, Thorin, but _Mahal_ you’ve got to realize you’re a parent. You signed up for this when you married Bilbo.”

“I know, Dís!” Thorin snapped. “I _realize_ I’m a parent but I’m also needed by our people. I need to go to Bree to work out a deal between our people and theirs until we’ve earned enough to rebuild here. It’s _my_ responsibility to do that,” Thorin argued.

“You can’t just leave to Bree for Mahal knows how long and continue ignoring Frodo’s needs,” Dís growled at her brother.

“I’ll spend some time with Frodo before I leave but I’ll need to go by the end of the week,” Thorin compromised. Dís groaned.

“Fine. But you better spend every moment of your free time with that boy or Mahal help you, Thorin…” Dís threatened.

“I know,” Thorin nodded.

“And take care of yourself,” Dís groaned, licking her thumb and running it over Thorin’s cheekbone, wiping away some of the stone dust. “You look like a mess.” Thorin grumbled and tried to pull away from Dís’ reach. “Be home early for dinner,” Dís told him. “Now I’ve got to go because I’m going to be late for my next meeting.”

**x**

When Dís returned home that evening she was surprised to find Thorin sitting with Frodo in their living area. He was reading a book and had his arm stretched across the back of the sofa with Frodo tucked in next to his side working on something in his lap as well.

“Hi, Aunt Dís,” Frodo greeted her softly as he looked up from what he was working on. Dís spotted a small stack of parchment in his lap and a piece of charcoal in his hands. Dís sighed in relief seeing Frodo being creative once again.

“Hello, dear,” Dís smiled. “Where’s Kíli?” Dís asked.

“Told him he could go find Fíli since he seemed itching to go help,” Thorin explained looking up from his book.

“Well, thank you,” Dís replied. “Frodo, why don’t you put your drawings up for now and go get cleaned up so we can start dinner.”

“Okay,” Frodo straightened the pieces of parchment in his lap before hopping off the sofa and heading upstairs. As soon as Frodo disappeared up the stairs Dís turned back to her brother.

“I’m surprised to see you home,” Dís raised her eyebrows.

“Now you’re going to scold me for coming home early?” Thorin scoffed.

“Who said I was scolding you? I’m glad you came home,” Dís came over and pinched her brother’s arm.

“Ouch. Don’t do that, you know I hate it.” Thorin rubbed his arm. “How did your meetings go?”

“Ah, it was terrible. No one knows what to do or where to start with everything that’s been destroyed or set on fire. It’s going to be a long while before we get back on our feet,” Dís sighed as she washed her hands and dried them off.

“Which is the reason I need to go to Bree. I need to go collect resources and buy what tools we need,” Thorin explained gruffly.

“I still wish you could send someone else. You’re needed here,” Dís huffed.

“I’m not needed here. You’re the one running everything right now while I’ve been shut up in my room.” Thorin folded his arms. “Besides I still feel responsible for this. It’s my fault Smaug came and destroyed everything, I should be the one to work hard to collect the resources we need to rebuild.”

“How is this, in any capacity, _your fault_ again?” Dís looked bewildered as she tied her hair back.

“The dragon was searching for me in case you didn’t hear,” Thorin explained.

“Because it’s a power-hungry stupid animal whose instinct is to hunt our line until we’re gone. We’re lucky we didn’t lose more than we did.” Dís shoved her finger into Thorin’s chest. Her brother looked livid.

“We’re _lucky?”_ Thorin breathed, barely containing his anger. “Perhaps _you’re_ lucky. In case you’ve forgotten _I lost my husband_ ,” Thorin raised his voice slightly.

“And I lost my best friend and brother-in-law, I _know_ , Thorin!” Dís competed with his raised voice. “Frodo lost his uncle, I know,” Dís continued quieter. “I’m just saying it could have been _a lot_ worse. Can you imagine losing Fíli or Kíli to that dragon? Or me? Or Frodo? Or all of us?” Dís questioned. Thorin still looked incredibly upset that Dís had considered losing only Bilbo _lucky_. “Besides that wasn’t—I just meant, if that’s your reasoning about why this is your fault, then this is my fault too. I’m of the Line of Durin in case you’ve forgotten. The dragon was here for me too.”

Thorin scoffed.

“No, shut up,” Dís hissed. Before Dís could say anything else she could hear Frodo coming back downstairs. “We’ll talk about this later,” Dís muttered as quietly as she could.

Frodo stepped into the kitchen and squirmed anxiously, realizing that he was interrupting their argument and that they didn’t want him to hear.

“Come here, Frodo,” Dís called the young hobbit to her side. “Start chopping these vegetables.”

“I’m going to go sleep until dinner.” Thorin started towards the stairs. “Come wake me when dinner’s ready.”

Frodo set to work chopping the vegetables and it was quiet for a bit.

“Is Uncle Thorin mad at you for yelling at him?” Frodo asked.

“I didn’t yell at him,” Dís sighed.

“It sounded like you were yelling,” Frodo muttered.

“We were just discussing things…loudly…” Dís tried to explain. Both her and Thorin had inherited the Durin temperament. Frerin was the one who rarely ever raised his voice and even though she was only thirty-nine when he died she missed how well he could disperse an argument. Even if at the time there were tiny squabbles between she and Thorin or Thorin and their father or sometimes even their father and their grandfather.

Dís sighed and figured it would do her no good to dwell on more death and instead focused her attention on making dinner.

**x**

The week passed quickly and hectically and soon the time for Thorin to depart was upon them.

He’d recruited Dwalin and several other dwarves who seemed willing to lend their craft to help acquire the supplies they needed to start rebuilding properly. At the last minute Fíli requested to join them and Thorin agreed to let him come along.

The group was making last minute preparations and securing the ponies and carts they were taking with them to Bree.  

“Do you have any kind of estimate about how long you’ll be gone?” Dís asked as she finished helping tie things down in the cart. “Will this be anything like your other trips to Bree?”

“I don’t know,” Thorin sighed. “But there’s a lot more that needs to be done this time around. I’ll try to be back by autumn at the latest.”

“I’d hope you’d be. Be home by Frodo’s birthday at least. You know how much it’s going to hurt him this year without Bilbo around. It’s March now, that’ll give you six months. Can you manage that?”

“I’ll try,” Thorin told her softly. “If the worst comes to worst, I’ll send word if we have to leave Eriador.”

“Mahal, I hope it won’t come to that…” Dís trailed off.

Frodo soon showed up, trailing behind Kíli and looking anxiously at how much was packed.

“You’re going to be gone for a while,” Kíli noted.

“Couple months at least,” Thorin confirmed. “But I’ll try to not be too long, I promise,” Thorin assured his nephews. His gaze lingered on Frodo. “I’m going to make enough for supplies  and come straight home.” His eyes moved back to his sister. “We’ll be back to some sense of normalcy before too long.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard. I know you’re still grieving. If you work yourself to death just to avoid feeling anything, Bilbo would never forgive you,” Dís muttered in a semi-joking tone of voice but her eyes were much too serious.

Thorin gave a deep sigh and looked away from his sister.

“This isn’t about Bilbo,” Thorin argued in a quiet voice. “This is about my duty to our people. One that must come before my own grief, just as it always has.”

“If…if that’s what it takes to get you through this…very well,” Dís sighed, pulling Thorin into a hug and then stood on her toes to press a kiss to his forehead. When they broke apart, Thorin turned back to Frodo and Kíli.

Kíli came forward and wrapped his arms around Thorin and Thorin clapped him on the back a few times.

“Take care of your mother,” Thorin muttered as he pressed his forehead against Kili’s. “I know she acts like she can handle it all but even she needs help sometimes.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Dís muttered. “Same to you.” Dís turned to her eldest son. “Take care of your uncle,” Dís echoed her brother’s words. Fíli smiled and quickly agreed that he would before giving his mother a hug.

Thorin then turned to Frodo who looked like he’d been holding back tears.

“Are you sure I can’t go with you?” Frodo asked quietly.

“You wouldn’t want to come with me. Bree is very unpleasant,” Thorin tried to discourage Frodo lightly.

“Hobbits live there, you know,” Frodo explained.

“I do know. But they’re not as nice as the Shire Hobbits,” Thorin explained. “Besides you have to stay here and make sure Kíli doesn’t get into trouble while I’m gone.”

“Uncle Thorin,” Frodo groaned, rolling his eyes.

“I promise you, I’ll be home before you know it,” Thorin assured the young hobbit. “All right?”

Frodo stepped forward and pressed his face to Thorin’s chest in such a tight embrace Thorin wasn’t sure if the boy would ever let him go.

“Remember Aunt Dís is going to send me updates from time to time and I’d appreciate it if I got some letters from you too, all right?”

“I promise I’ll send you letters,” Frodo nodded seriously.

“You’ll be fine,” Thorin nodded and mussed Frodo’s hair before standing straight and turning back to the carts. The dwarves all mounted their ponies  and Thorin and Fíli waved their goodbyes before finally departing for Bree.

**x**

A week and a half into their journey Thorin gently broached the topic of splitting with the group. He had business in Hobbiton he had to see to and he didn’t want the rest of them to be slowed down or obligated to take part. Thorin would rather not have anyone with him anyway.

“Ah, right,” Dwalin nodded when Thorin told him. “Do what you need to do.”

“I won’t take long,” Thorin explained. “I’ll be in and out within a day and I’ll be back on the road towards Bree.”

“Take whatever time you need,” Dwalin assured him.

“Are you sure you don’t want at least one of us to come with you?” Fíli asked anxiously.

“I need to do this on my own,” Thorin declined Fíli’s offer. “I’ll catch up to you in no time.”

The next morning Thorin took one of the ponies with him and bid the others goodbye before turning towards Hobbiton.

In his satchel there were four letters for Bilbo’s friends and family delivering the bad news. He and Dís had decided to draw up letters to send out: one for the Bagginses, one for the Tooks, one for the Gamgees and one for the Brandybucks who were closer relations of Frodo’s but still connected to Bilbo’s family and deserved to know what had happened. They figured from there the news would spread and the entire Shire would know Bilbo Baggins was killed by a dragon, just like his poor father before him.

There would probably be snide remarks about ‘that’s what you get for running off with dwarves’ and a good deal of blame placed on Thorin and he despised that Bilbo’s death would most likely only be a topic of gossip. The hobbits would tut in disapproval and probably discuss ‘poor Frodo’ left all alone with the dwarves.

Thorin wanted to get this over with and flee before he had to witness any of this for himself.  He arrived at the Green Dragon and paid to put the pony in the stable for the day before setting off on his quest.

First, he’d have to find the Hobbiton Post Office. He’d never known where it was but rather just assumed they had one judging by the mailboxes outside of the homes. Thorin had remembered the many times he stood outside the gate to Bag End while his stomach tied itself in knots with his gaze transfixed on the mailbox beside the gate. There had been sun-faded lettering on the side of it that said, _‘Baggins’_ and underneath it was _‘Number One Bagshot Row.’_

Thorin’s stomach now twisted in a much more unpleasant manner than it had back then.

After getting more than enough odd glances from hobbits he passed by trying not to look as lost as he felt, his gaze turned towards the hill where Bag-End used to stand. It was a habit for his gaze to seek a comforting view but now it only held pain looking upon the barren hill.

He decided he’d have to make the trek up the hill. No matter how much he dreaded it, he should at least give the Gamgees the decency of telling them himself. Slowly he made his way up the hill, a path that at one point had become very familiar to him.

Thorin stopped outside of the Gamgees' home and took a deep breath trying to determine the right words to inform them. He pushed onwards to the door and raised his hand and knocked. The letters Dís had written had well-formulated words and Thorin had considered just using that. But the letter had been written in such a formal matter than Thorin felt it would be quite rude to deliver the news in person using those words. A million other different possibilities fluttered through his mind and none of them seemed to hold enough weight to them.

At long last the door opened up and there stood Hamfast with a pipe in his hand. The hobbit raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“M-Mister Thorin?” Hamfast greeted him. “What a surprise!” Hamfast looked past Thorin; he was obviously searching for his good friend following close behind. “Where is Mister Bilbo and young Master Frodo? Securing a room at the Green Dragon?”

“I—no,” Thorin shook his head. “I…I have bad news,” Thorin muttered as quietly as he could.

“Wh…what’s happened?” Hamfast anxiously shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“Who is it, dear? Don’t leave them standing at the door all night long!” Bell called as she appeared at the doorway.

“It’s Mister Thorin,” Hamfast replied quietly. “He said he’s got bad news concerning Bilbo and young Frodo.”

“Perhaps I could speak to you privately?” Thorin suggested as he saw one of their  youngest daughters peek her head towards the door to see who it was.

“Hamson, keep an eye on your siblings for me,” Bell called over her shoulder before ushering her husband out on the doorstep and closing the door behind them. “What’s happened?” Bell asked solemnly, wrapping her shawl closer around her shoulders.

“Bilbo was killed in a dragon attack a little over a month ago,” Thorin quickly told her. A hand immediately went up to her mouth with a gasp.

“W-What was that?” Hamfast asked wetly.  

“It was a dragon attack. There was not much we could do to prevent it or fight back. There was a tremendous loss of life and we were all very lucky that so many survived and our home— although destroyed— is still our own.”

The hobbits stared at him blankly, trying to process what the dwarf was telling them.

“What do you mean, _dragon attack?”_ Bell questioned a little hysterically. “You told us—you told _him_ they’d be safe there! What happened?”

“It was beyond any of our control,” Thorin tried to comfort her. “He died trying to protect Frodo. He got between the dragon and Frodo and was swept off when we hurt the dragon enough to make it retreat. We sent search parties…” Thorin trailed off trying to refrain from letting his emotions overwhelm him. “It was no good.” Thorin shook his head.

“So there’s no chance he still lives?” Bell asked, her own voice breaking and a few tears dripping down her cheeks. Thorin shook his head solemnly.

“What about young Frodo?” Hamfast questioned.

“He’s all right…he was injured from the attack but has recovered. He’s staying with my sister and one of my nephews for the time being.”

“Why didn’t he come with you to deliver this news?” Bell asked, dabbing at her eyes with her shawl.

“I would have brought him but I’m on my way to Bree for a lengthy period of time. He’s still recovering and will fare much better at home with my sister watching over him.”

“He won’t be coming back home to the Shire will he?” Bell asked softly.

“For now he wishes to remain in Ered Luin with my family,” Thorin explained, anxiously avoiding the hobbit’s gaze.  “But I did want to let Bilbo and Frodo’s family know what had happened. Though, I couldn’t find my way to the post office,” Thorin explained digging the letters out of his rucksack. “To be honest I don’t have addresses or really any clear clue as to where I’m sending them. I just need to make sure they get to the heads of the Baggins family, the Took family, and the Brandybuck family. In fact, I had one for you too. I’m ashamed to admit I only meant to send the letters and be done with it.”

“I’m glad you came to tell us in person,” Hamfast assured Thorin.

“Perhaps you could point me in the direction of the post office? I’d like to get them sent and be on my way to Bree to meet up with my kin,” Thorin continued.

“I can take care of them,” Bell offered, extending her hand to take the letters.

“I’d hate to impose,” Thorin shook his head.

“It would be no trouble,” Hamfast agreed. Thorin sighed with a nod and handed the letters to Bell.  “So what will you be doing in Bree?” Hamfast asked.

“Working to earn enough for reconstruction,” Thorin explained. “There was much destruction after the dragon and life…must continue,” Thorin sighed.

“Well, will you at least come in and have dinner?” Bell offered politely.

“No, I should be off,” Thorin declined. “Thank you, though.” Thorin promptly remembered his manners.

“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Hamfast bowed his head. A split second decision clicked in Thorin’s mind.

“Would you mind terribly if I went up to…” Thorin pointed in the direction of Bag-End.

“No, of course not. Go right ahead,” Bell quickly answered.

“Ashamed to say I haven’t had the time nor money to do anything to the place sadly,” Hamfast admitted.

“It’s all right. I just think I want to see it once again,” Thorin explained. They bid each other a solemn goodbye and Thorin turned onto the lane that led up the hill.

When they had returned to the Shire for the wedding, he and Bilbo had visited the hill before they returned home to Ered Luin. Bilbo had looked resigned as they looked through the empty destroyed home again but there had been a sense of peace about him.

Thorin stepped past the partially still standing gate and up to the doorless entrance. As he moved through the home he remembered the trip to the Shire that led him to meet Bilbo. Staring into what used to be the dining room, Thorin remembered the pleasant, yet slightly awkward dinners, although they seemed like ages ago.

Suddenly, along with the everlasting dull ache he felt while missing Bilbo, there was a new sharp pain in his chest and he realized how much he missed Frodo. He had spent more time the week before he left with his hobbit nephew but deep down he knew it hadn’t been enough. Now he was going to be apart from him for the next couple months at least.

Perhaps Dís had been right…perhaps he should have stayed home. But he knew that this needed to be done. Thorin vowed he would be home before Frodo’s birthday and he’d have to make it up to him.

Thorin left the remnants of Bag-End and headed back down to the Green Dragon where the last remaining merchants were beginning to pack up their stalls for the afternoon. He doubted he’d find anything now with most of the vendors gone for the evening. But he hoped to find something Shire-made at least for Frodo’s birthday, to give him back a little bit of the place that used to be his home and maybe something to remind him of Bilbo. Perhaps he’d have to stop by the Shire on the way home once he’d thought it through a bit more and the markets were still open.

Then, Thorin spotted a table with a few items still out on display.

“Hello, Master Dwarf,” the hobbit greeted kindly, looking curiously at Thorin as the dwarf approached the table. “How can I help you?”

Thorin looked at the merchant’s wares which included beautiful leather bound journals. He picked up a thick elaborately decorated journal. It reminded him of the journal Bilbo used to write in and how Frodo seemed to pick up the habit…or at least with drawing instead of writing.

He spotted a few sticks of colored charcoal next to where the journals were on display.

It would be the perfect gift for Frodo.

Thorin pulled out his purse of coins and looked down at it despondently as the vendor went on to explain the pricing of his journals. He still had to have enough to stay at the Green Dragon that evening and then enough to stay in Bree and to feed himself and his purse wasn’t very heavy. He knew he’d hopefully be earning enough once he arrived in Bree but Thorin didn’t want to spend every last coin he had.

Thorin picked one of the smaller, lesser elaborate journals and handed the coin to the merchant. His eyes lingered on the colored charcoal but there was no possible way he could afford both the journal and the charcoal.

“Is this journal for you?” the merchant asked.

“No, it’s a gift for my nephew’s birthday,” Thorin explained shortly. “He’ll be fourteen this year.” Thorin smiled softly thinking of Frodo.

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about dwarves and how their ages match up to us hobbits but—”

“He’s a hobbit,” Thorin quickly explained. “My nephew is a hobbit.” The merchant looked even more curiously at Thorin. “It’s a long story,” Thorin told the merchant. “But we’ve had a rough time of it recently and I think he’d appreciate this. Thank you.”

“Wait, are you the dwarf who married that Baggins fellow several years back?” the merchant suddenly remembered.

“Well, yes,” Thorin looked startled by the hobbit, suddenly remembered Bilbo saying something about the family name of Baggins was a well known one. As if the merchant could read Thorin’s mind, he clarified further.

“Not every day a hobbit runs off with a dwarf,” the merchant explained. “‘Specially not a Baggins! How is that Mad Baggins doing, anyway?” the hobbit asked cheerfully.

“He’s…he’s…” Thorin stumbled over his words. “He…was killed by a dragon about a month ago now.”

“Oh, my,” the hobbit gasped quietly. “I’m—I’m sorry to hear it. I shouldn’t have…”

“It’s…fine. Thank you.” Thorin gripped the journal and turned away.

“W-Wait, Master Dwarf!” the merchant called. Thorin turned back and the hobbit held up the small bundle of charcoals. “Go ahead and take the charcoals. I know you were eying them.”

“I don’t need your pity,” Thorin scowled, but he looked down considering how much Frodo _would_ appreciate the charcoals.

“Don’t think of it as pity, think of it as a bundle deal. Buy the journal, get the charcoals,” the hobbit quickly explained.

“Thank you,” Thorin muttered softly and accepted the charcoals. The merchant offered to wrap both the charcoals and journal up together and tied the parcel together with twine and Thorin turned back to the Green Dragon for the evening.

**x**

The next few months passed excruciatingly slow. Thorin was glad to have Dwalin and Fíli with him but he missed the rest of his family terribly. He found himself wishing he hadn’t locked himself away so much immediately after Bilbo’s death.

Occasionally he’d received letters from Dís and Frodo and he smiled down at Frodo’s careful handwriting. The letters kept him motivated and working and soon the dwarves were beginning to make plans to return to Ered Luin. They had earned enough to buy the supplies and tools they needed.

They may have to return to Bree again some time in the near future, but for the time being they had enough to get reconstruction well underway.

On the way home they avoided passing through the Shire as much as they could. Thorin knew that by now the news of Bilbo’s death would have spread. He didn’t want to chance any member of Bilbo’s family spotting him and blaming him for Bilbo’s death. Seeing Hamfast and Bell’s reactions were hard enough and Thorin was not ready to face any other grieving hobbits or angry family members.

Thorin was relieved to set eyes on Ered Luin once again and was eager to get home. As they entered the mountain and before they hardly passed the main gate, Thorin spotted Kíli and Frodo approaching them with broad smiles. Thorin dismounted his pony and smiled at his nephews.

It was such a balm on Thorin’s heart to see Frodo completely healthy with a smile on his face.

“Uncle Thorin!” Frodo cried as he finally reached Thorin and wrapped his arms around his middle. Not too far away, Kíli was embracing his brother in a welcoming hug. “I’m so glad you’re home.” Frodo beamed up at Thorin.

“As am I, my dear Frodo,” Thorin ruffled the boy’s hair. Frodo hurried over to Fíli and embraced the other dwarf equally as enthusiastically and Fíli leaned down to reciprocate. Kíli came over and pulled Thorin into a hug.

“How’d it go?” Kíli asked, pulling away but still holding fast to Thorin’s shoulder.

“I think I should be asking you the same question,” Thorin replied. “Frodo seems like he’s doing all right.”

“Only because you’re back. We all missed you a lot,” Kíli explained. “We’ll be okay now that you’re back.”

“I hope that’s true,” Thorin mumbled.

“Were you able to get your messages to the Shire?” Kíli asked.

“We’ll talk once we get home,” Thorin sighed. “For now we have to move our supplies we brought with us to the reconstruction sites.”

Kíli nodded and moved over to where his brother was starting to lead the ponies and carts into the city. Frodo had come back over to Thorin and hovered anxiously nearby.

“Why don’t you go tell Aunt Dís we’re home while we unload everything?” Thorin suggested to Frodo.

“No,” Frodo groaned. “I wish to stay with you.” Frodo reached out and grabbed Thorin’s hand.

“Very well,” Thorin sighed, gripping Frodo’s hand.

When they arrived at where most of the reconstruction efforts were focused, they found Dís among them directing a few groups of dwarves as they worked. She caught sight of them and nearly did a double take. She grinned broadly and excused herself from the conversation she was in the middle of.

“You’re back!” Dís beamed as she came over and embraced Fíli. She turned to her brother next and embraced him. “Oh, you’re back,” Dís sighed as she pulled away.

“And I’m so very glad to be,” Thorin smiled gently at his sister.

“You’ve certainly done well for yourself in Bree,” Dís remarked, looking at the carts being brought in.

“Well enough for now anyway,” Thorin nodded. With the efforts from the other dwarves at the reconstruction site the carts were unloaded in no time with the supplies being hauled off to where they were most needed.

“Come on, you must be exhausted,” Dís rested her hand on Thorin’s arm as he finished a conversation with one of the dwarves helping with reconstruction.

“Shouldn’t we stay a little longer?” Thorin asked as he watched over the workers.

“They can handle it,” Dís assured him. “You’re the one who’s been gone for nearly six months. Let’s go home, we’ll worry about the rest of this tomorrow morning.”

They returned home and Dís started dinner while Thorin and Fíli went to go wash up for the evening. During dinner there was light conversation about the weather they ran into in Bree and the different projects they’d ended up doing.

Once the plates had been cleared away Thorin went to his pack and retrieved the paper wrapped parcel he’d bought in the Shire all those months ago and called Frodo over.

The young hobbit took a seat next to Thorin in the living area and looked curiously at the wrapped package in Thorin’s hands.

“This is for you,” Thorin handed him the parcel. “I know it’s not quite your birthday yet—”

“It’s in two weeks,” Frodo confirmed. Thorin smiled softly and nodded.

“Do you want to wait and open it then?” Thorin pulled the package back towards him. Frodo considered it for a moment, pondering if having to wait would be more exciting. “You don’t have to open it now, but I must tell you I bought this in the Shire and not in Bree.”

“You went to the Shire?” Frodo asked and Thorin wasn’t sure if Frodo sounded hurt or just curious.

“Yes, I…I had to deliver the news of Bilbo to your relatives,” Thorin explained gently. Frodo nodded solemnly. “We’ll go back another time when we’re not on such a grim mission.”

Frodo nodded again, understandingly, and looked back to the parcel.

“I think I’ll open it,” Frodo decided, and Thorin handed him the package. Frodo’s careful fingers unwrapped the brown paper and pulled out the journal and the colored charcoals.

“I saw the journals and thought you might want one similar to the one Bilbo had,” Thorin explained, watching Frodo with anticipation. Frodo grinned down at the journal as he ran his fingers over the leather before flipping it open to look at the blank pages.

“And these are charcoals?” Frodo asked.

“Yes, different colored ones you can use to draw with,” Thorin confirmed. Frodo excitedly opened the journal to one of the first pages and reached for one of the charcoal pieces to test out.

Dís gave her approving smile to Thorin as Kíli demanded to see how the charcoals looked and Frodo eagerly letting Kíli try a color of his choosing.

It wasn’t long before they were all itching to get to bed and Frodo went to put his new journal and charcoals safely away in his room.

Just as Thorin was getting into bed there was a soft knock on the door; he thought it was probably Dís. He called for whoever was outside to come in and Thorin looked up to find Frodo. The young hobbit’s hands gripped the old stuffed rabbit Thorin had saved from Bag-End and suddenly all Thorin could see was the young timid hobbit he’d met four years ago instead of the growing, mature adolescent Frodo had become.

“I-I know I’m too old for this but…” Frodo trailed off. “Do you think I could stay the night in here with you?”

“Of course, Frodo,” Thorin sighed with a small smile. “I would be happy for you to stay here for the night. Come on.” Frodo hesitantly made his way over to the bed and got into it beside Thorin, burrowing into the blankets.

“I missed you a lot,” Thorin told Frodo softly.

“Really?” Frodo asked quietly as he peeked up from under the blankets at Thorin.

“I thought about you everyday and how unfair it was to hardly speak to you after we lost Bilbo,” Thorin continued. “I’m so sorry, Frodo,” Thorin apologized.

“I forgive you,” Frodo stifled a yawn. “Aunt Dís explained everything to me.”

“What…what did she explain to you?” Thorin furrowed his brows in confusion.

“That it’s how you grieved for Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo nestled in against Thorin’s side. “That you thought it’d be easier if you shut everyone out.”

Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Frodo picking at a stray thread on his stuffed rabbit. Thorin hummed quietly.

“It’s all right,” Frodo assured Thorin again when he didn’t say anything.  Thorin turned over, trying not to shift Frodo too much from where he was laying and put the candle out beside the bed.  

“I’m glad to have such a forgiving nephew,” Thorin sighed as the room went dark and he closed his eyes as he settled in next to Frodo. For the first time since Bilbo’s death, Thorin was able to get a good night’s rest.


	11. The Dragon Nest

Bilbo was fed up.

He was fed up with dragons and fed up with this musty, empty kingdom.

It had been weeks since he arrived in Erebor upon the back of Smaug—or perhaps it had actually been months? Or even years?

Bilbo had stayed away from the treasure halls in which the dragons resided and only came upon them occasionally when one would accidentally find him. They never harmed him or acted as if they’d harm him but Bilbo still felt much too anxious around them.

He hadn’t been seen by or spoken to Smaug since he had arrived and Bilbo was quite content. He had no desire to go back down upon the hills of gold and talk to the dragon that had imprisoned him there in the mountain. Bilbo had yet to think through a plan to fool the dragon into letting him leave.

Though he supposed he’d have to go down there again at some point and make sure the dragon had no more plans to return and wipe out what was left of his family.

He continued to wonder how many of the dwarves had ended up dying in the attack and if any of his family was among the dead. When Bilbo closed his eyes, he could still see Frodo slipping from the dragon’s claws. He remembered desperately trying to pinpoint where Thorin or Dís had been when Smaug had unleashed the wall of fire from his maw.

Bilbo shook his head and swallowed down the horrifically grim possibility that a majority of his family were dead. He’d return home and find them waiting for him with open arms. Now he just had to find a way home.

He had now explored the royal chambers and cleaned out the kitchens enough so that they were usable for him—even if the only things he made were composed of the rice, beans, and grains he had found stored in the kitchen pantries.  

One afternoon after Bilbo had exhausted himself cleaning the rooms in the royal quarters, he found a curious dragon stalking around outside the door to Thorin’s room.  The dragon was immensely taller than he was so at first Bilbo was frightened However, he soon realized that the dragon didn’t seem malicious or ready to attack so the hobbit relaxed a little.

“Erm, hello,” Bilbo greeted the dragon. He inched closer, hoping the dragon would move out of the way so Bilbo could get to his room. “Do you mind?” Bilbo gestured to his room. Now that he realized the dragon meant him no harm he was a bit annoyed by the dragon’s presence. He was tired and hungry and just wanted to curl up in Thorin’s bed and sleep for a while.

The dragon sniffed around Bilbo before butting its snout against Bilbo’s hand. The hobbit indulged the curious dragon and gently rubbed its snout. Suddenly the dragon’s skin faded from purple to yellow.

“Oh,” Bilbo raised his eyebrows. “That’s interesting.” He knew Changewings were able to change colors in order to blend into their surroundings but that’s not what this dragon was doing. “Have to remember that,” he mumbled to himself.

There had been a good number of dragons that Bilbo had not recognized in the nest. After years of poring over his mother’s journal, he figured that this part of the world must have dragons that his mother had never seen before. Bilbo wondered if he could find texts in the mountain about different dragon species. He’d already looked through most of the books in the royal chambers but there wasn’t much on dragons and much of it was in the dwarven language Khuzdul. Bilbo was only able to decipher a little bit of it.

He hoped there was a proper library here in Erebor and he decided it was time Bilbo set out to find it, hoping that it all wouldn’t all be in Khuzdul. If nothing else he could use this experience to learn more about the dragons and gain more knowledge to take back with him to Ered Luin.

But for now he had a dragon he knew nothing about in the path between him and a good rest. His fingers went to the ring in his pocket and he anxiously rubbed his thumb along the smooth cool metal. It was the only thing keeping him alive, according to what Smaug had told him. The ring had control over dragons, did it not? Or rather the maker of the ring had power over the alphas, at least. But could he at least have some influence over just any dragon?

Bilbo had no idea how any of this Ring-Bearer nonsense was supposed to work.

“Perhaps you could let me into my room?” Bilbo asked the dragon as it continued to eye him carefully. “I mean it’s not really my room. It’s my husband’s room. His room over a century ago, anyway. But I’m using it now and I’d very much like to go rest.”

The dragon didn’t move much as it continued to watch Bilbo. He pulled the ring out and clenched it in his hands.

“Look, I’ve got this ring, don’t I have some kind of sway over you?” Bilbo asked the dragon exasperatedly. Finally the dragon moved to the side and let him pass. Bilbo anxiously sidled past the dragon and into the room, shutting the solid door behind him.

He breathed a sigh of relief, stuffing the ring back into his pocket. Bilbo then collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep.

**x**

The next day Bilbo decided to take a little break from cleaning up the Royal Chambers and making it a livable space. He boiled water and drew himself a bath in the large tub in the washroom off of his chambers. The water never stayed warm very long and Bilbo got out as soon as it started to cool off. He looked through the clothes that were in the best shape from the ones he had pulled from Thorin’s wardrobe and cleaned before he decided on a suitably warm outfit for relaxing in the cold mountain.

Once he was dressed he decided to head to the kitchen and make himself another bland meal but when he opened the door, the strange dragon from the night before was still there.

“What do you want from me?” Bilbo grumbled at the dragon. It only watched him eagerly as Bilbo closed the door behind him. The dragon began to regurgitate something and Bilbo covered his nose and mouth thinking of the mess he’d have to clean up. He didn’t know dragons could vomit. But then again, he’d never thought about it before.

Though Bilbo quickly realized what the dragon had regurgitated were full non-digested fish. They were slick with the dragon’s saliva but that didn’t deter Bilbo so much.

“What’s this?” Bilbo asked quickly. The dragon bobbed its head excitedly as if waiting for praise from Bilbo. “This is for me?” The dragon stopped bobbing its head and looked at Bilbo expectantly with a low purring sound.

“Well, if you aren’t going to eat it—“ Bilbo gingerly picked up the fish. It was disgusting but after so long eating stale rice and beans this was a gift. The hobbit quickly padded to the royal kitchens carefully avoiding getting the dragon saliva on his sleeves because he didn’t know how hard it would be to wash out and Bilbo only had so many clothes that fit decently.

The dragon followed close behind but at this point Bilbo didn’t even mind.

When he arrived in the kitchens he shed the surcoat, rolled up his sleeves, and set about cleaning the fish and starting a fire to cook it over. He was so hungry at the thought of actual fish meat he did not want to spend much time preparing the meal.

Before long the fish had cooked and Bilbo was plating up the delicious smelling meal and trying not to think that it had come from a dragon’s stomach, which was hard to do with the dragon watching him intently. It had curled up just inside the kitchens and was watching him with mild amusement.

Bilbo devoured the plate of food within what felt like mere moments. He could swear that it was the best tasting fish he’d ever had.

“Thank you, very much.” Bilbo dabbed at his mouth with his makeshift handkerchief. “It was very kind of you to…erm, share.” Suddenly he wondered if he’d get any kind of disease from eating something that had previously been consumed by a dragon, but so far he felt fine.

In a flurry of motion the dragon brought itself back to a standing position and blinked at Bilbo a few times before turning a pale green.

“I-Is something the matter?” Bilbo asked uneasily as he stood up as well. He wished the ring granted him powers to communicate with the dragons—well, any dragon other than Smaug. If nothing else it would pass the time to be able to chat with the dragons. This one anxiously shifted its weight between its two back feet before lowering its head in a bow.

Bilbo hesitantly approached the dragon and extended his hand. The dragon moved forward to place its snout under Bilbo’s hand.

“There we are,” Bilbo breathed quietly, staring in awe at the beast before him. The dragon nudged Bilbo’s hand and even bumped against Bilbo’s side with its snout. “Easy!” Bilbo jumped a little anxiously. “What do you want, you silly thing?”

The dragon gave a low growl as it blinked up at him, lowering himself even further and looking at Bilbo.

“Please don’t tell me you want me to get on your back…” Bilbo groaned. Another higher pitched noise answered Bilbo accompanied with another nudge as the dragon turned a little more blue, turning the dragon a teal color. Bilbo wondered if he’d ever be able to read the dragon’s thoughts from the colors it turned.

“Will you be able to bring me back here?” Bilbo asked. “See, the thing is…I don’t know this place very well. I mean, I know this place,” Bilbo motioned to the Royal Chambers. “But not the whole mountain…and I’d very much like to return here if I allow you to take me where ever you think it is that I’m needed,” Bilbo explained diligently. The dragon knocked into him again, nearly sweeping the hobbit off his feet. “Very well!” Bilbo huffed as he awkwardly straddled the back of the dragon. He looked down and realized there was nothing to hold onto.

“Now, wait just a moment, please!” Bilbo peeped as he tried to find a good handhold. The dragon headed out of the kitchen into the wide hallway and began to flex its wings. Bilbo anxiously settled on, holding the best he could to the spikes that lined the dragon’s back. The moment his hands found somewhere to hold the dragon took off, gliding down the hallways with ease. Bilbo yelped in surprise and wanted to close his eyes, feeling as if they were going to crash at any moment.

They emerged from the large Royal Wing and arrived out in the open air of the kingdom. Bilbo occasionally would wander out here a bit but not too far from where he had made his temporary home. He swallowed hard and hoped he’d be able to find his way back to Thorin’s room.

Bilbo closed his eyes again, clinging for dear life to the dragon as it flew them down into the halls of treasure. His stomach was in his throat as the cool mountain air whizzed past his face.

“Oh, no,” Bilbo groaned to himself as he squinted through bleary eyes to see the piles of gold. “No, no! Take me back!” Bilbo cried. He had been avoiding Smaug all this time because he was terrified of the large dragon and here he had been foolish enough to get onto the back of a dragon that was determined to return him to the alpha dragon, probably under the dragon’s order.

Finally the dragon touched down and folded its wings close to its body. It stooped as if it were going to sit, allowing Bilbo to slide off the back of it. Bilbo was terrified to make a sound as his eyes landed on Smaug, who looked as if he’d hardly moved since the last time Bilbo saw him. Of course, the treasure halls all looked the same and they could be in a completely different part of them for all Bilbo knew.

“Ah, the Ring-Bearer greets us with his presence at last,” Smaug growled.

“What do you want with me?” Bilbo’s hand anxiously went to feel the pocket he was keeping his ring in.

“I have not sent for you.” Smaug looked questioningly at the dragon that had brought Bilbo to him. The dragon unleashed a string of chirps and growls in response to Smaug’s questioning look. “I do not need him to attend to me.”

“Wait, why does this dragon think you need tending to?” Bilbo questioned, his eyes scanning the dragon. “Is it about your wound?”

Smaug remained silent as the dragon that had brought Bilbo down to the treasure halls gave a small noise in acknowledgement.

“It’s still giving you trouble?” Bilbo frowned. “I should think that it would have healed by this point.”

Upon hearing Bilbo explain that the wound should have healed, Smaug reluctantly raised his wing. Bilbo could see the soft area beneath the wing joint still looking fresh as it oozed. The hobbit wracked his brain trying to determine what kind of poison could infect a dragon this badly. He’d never paid much attention to the specifics of the weapons the dwarves used. From the looks of it, it could have been acid or a liquid poison of some kind. It had soaked into the scales and some of Smaug’s impenetrable armor was peeling off, leaving unpleasant oozing flesh.

“That definitely looks like it needs tending to,” Bilbo nodded as he tried to subconsciously bury his nose in the sleeve of his coat. The scent of the wounded flesh was quite potent.

“You can help me, then?” Smaug asked.

“I’ve tried to help before…I don’t know what more I can do, but I can try,” Bilbo nodded. “But you must promise me one thing. An oath as an alpha bound to a Ring-Bearer.”

Smaug made no comment and only continued to watch the hobbit.

“You must promise me you will not return to Ered Luin. You will not pursue my family any further. You have your nest here and I have assured you that no attack is coming for you and your nest, at least not from Ered Luin,” Bilbo declared. Smaug bared his teeth with a low displeased growl.

“Do not act as if you can control me,” Smaug snarled.

“I know you’ve said that I do not have the kind of control over you that the maker of the ring once had,” Bilbo stated. “But you are hurt and if you don’t let me tend to you, your condition will worsen and could permanently injure you. Perhaps we may strike a bargain. If I do what I can for your injury you must promise you will not go after the dwarves again.”

Smaug thought over Bilbo’s offer before giving an answer.

“Very well,” Smaug decided. “I don’t know what you can do for my injury but I will allow you to try and help me. If you are able to help I promise I will not pursue the dwarves.”

Bilbo swallowed hard. So it was up to his healing abilities to keep the dwarves safe. He hoped it would be enough.

“I will need supplies,” Bilbo squeaked. “I need herbs and to find those herbs I must leave the mountain.”

Smaug gave a displeased noise.

“I’m not going to run off now, especially not with the deal we’ve made,” Bilbo assured the dragon.

“If you are gone longer than a day, every dragon in this mountain including myself will return to Ered Luin and wipe out every last one of those dwarves,” Smaug threatened.

“A day! Very well then!” Bilbo nodded, nervously. “I shall need to return to my chambers and I should think I’ll need an escort for me to be able to find my way out of this place.”

“The dragon that brought you down to me will be your escort. She will watch over your every move and report back to me.” Smaug turned his attention back to the dragon that was still hovering anxiously nearby. The dragon had turned back to the pale green Bilbo had seen earlier as she dipped her head in acknowledgement. “A day is all you have, starting now.”

Bilbo jumped a little and nodded quickly turning back to the dragon that had brought him there.

“Back up to where we were, if you’d please?” Bilbo requested as the dragon lowered herself to accommodate Bilbo. As soon as he had a hold of the spikes on the dragon’s back, the dragon flexed its wings and took off. Bilbo was still not accustomed to the feeling of traveling by dragon, but he thought to himself that it was efficient.

In no time at all Bilbo was back in the Royal Chambers and he hurried to Thorin’s room. He’d need something to collect the herbs in, he thought, searching for a satchel or pack of some kind.

Before heading back out to find the dragon he retrieved some of the clothes that hadn’t fit him very well and one of the fur blankets off of the bed. If he was going to ride this dragon out of the abandoned kingdom he wanted to be comfortable.

Bilbo slung the bag he’d found in the room over his shoulder and found the dragon waiting patiently for him. He reached up and draped the fur throw over the dragon’s back before he tore up some of the clothes that had been too large for him.

“Sorry, Thorin,” Bilbo muttered. “They were beautiful clothes but they must serve another purpose now.” He began to tie the ripped clothing together around the dragon’s long neck. When he finished the dragon looked as if it was sporting a mismatched scarf and Bilbo smiled to himself. This would make it easier to hold onto the dragon, or at least that’s what Bilbo hoped.

The dragon waited patiently as Bilbo got situated and tried out his new grip.

“I hope this isn’t hurting you, is it?” Bilbo asked wondering if the dragon could really understand him at all. The dragon turned to its teal blue color and Bilbo assumed that meant it felt ok with Bilbo’s additions. “Okay, I’m ready.” Bilbo gripped the fabric collar in his hands. The dragon spread its wings and Bilbo braced himself.

Once again Bilbo was whizzing out of the Royal Chambers on the back of the dragon, except now they were headed in a different direction. Instead of going deeper into the mountain, they flew through the abandoned civilization, past places Bilbo had never seen before.

Soon Bilbo spotted what looked like a small patch of daylight. It grew bigger and bigger as they got closer and soon the light was blinding him. He nearly wept out of relief to feel the sun shining on his face once again.

Opening his eyes he could see the ground disappear beneath them and the ruins of an old city not too far away. Past the ruins there was a large lake with what looked like a city built upon stilts above the water.

The dragon swooped over the landscape surrounding the mountain before finally descending upon a particularly vegetated area. After landing, the dragon dipped down and allowed Bilbo off its back. Bilbo stumbled down and began to look around. Even what looked like the lushest part of the mountain side was still fairly barren. Bilbo frowned, wondering if he was going to find anything that he needed.

It had been a long time since he had foraged for herbs but he was fairly confident he’d be able to pick out what he needed. After looking around for an hour or so Bilbo had collected a few things that might help but he sighed despondently at the lack of usable herbs.

“This is ridiculous,” Bilbo muttered to the dragon as he returned to where the dragon was sunning itself. “There’s no way this is going to help Smaug that much. There’s not enough and there’s not much that will actually help him.”

Bilbo sat down beside the dragon in the field of tall dry grass and looked out at the landscape, wondering if he could spot somewhere else to look for herbs. His gaze landed on the small town out on the lake and wondered if the people who lived there had gardens with usable herbs. Surely, they had to have a stash of medicinal herbs of some kind. If Bilbo had to guess, they would have more useful things in their stores than what was out here on the mountain side.

“Do you think…? I know I shouldn’t even ask,” Bilbo trailed off. “But you know I’m not finding a whole lot…and if I’m going to help Smaug…I need a bigger store of herbs.”

The dragon eyed him, its yellow skin tone fading into a rosy peach color.

“I’m completely mad, talking to a dragon,” Bilbo laughed to himself. “You can understand me though, can’t you?” Bilbo asked. The dragon moved closer and sat next to Bilbo. “I should give you a name so I don’t feel like I’ve finally lost it, hm?” Bilbo decided. “If I’m talking to a dragon with a name I think I’d feel a little less ridiculous,” Bilbo explained further. “I suppose you already have a name or whatever your kin refer to you as, but Smaug failed to mention it to me, of course. Would I be able to pronounce it, or would it be a roar of some kind?” Bilbo asked as his mind lazily searched for a proper name for a dragon.

Finally he decided to just lay down in the grass and soak up the wonderful rays of sunlight that he missed for so long. He didn’t dare fall asleep though, for fear of missing Smaug’s deadline. Eventually, after about a quarter of an hour, Bilbo sat up again and squinted at the dragon who was watching him closely. Its skin had gone back to the pale green color.

“How about Minty?” Bilbo asked, remembering the band of ponies he had ridden to the Shire for his and Thorin’s wedding. One of them had been Minty and the name for the dragon seemed much more fitting, thinking the color looked close to a mint green and it seemed to wear that color often. The dragon chirped softly and Bilbo smiled. “Minty it is then,” Bilbo nodded.

The color on the dragon went back to a golden peach color.

“Ah, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” Bilbo muttered. “Now, Minty,” Bilbo stood up as if he’d decided something. “I know Smaug won’t like it but…I’d appreciate it if you took me down to that town down there. I suppose not very close, because they’ll see you coming and I don’t want to raise any suspicions if I can help it.”

Minty gave a low purring sound.

“I suppose if you could fly close to the ground and land me somewhere where you’ll be covered,” Bilbo explained. “I’ll be in and out quickly and I’ll wear my ring so no one will see me.” Minty nodded along as if she understood what Bilbo needed.

Bilbo climbed up onto the dragon’s back and gripped the cloth reins once again. He gave a light kick to Minty’s side as if she were a pony. She jumped a little and went orange.

“I’m sorry!” Bilbo shouted, deciding that dragons most certainly were not like ponies in the least. “I’m ready,” Bilbo informed Minty and she spread her wings as she changed back to the light yellow-greenish color and Bilbo wondered if it was a mood change or if she was doing it to blend in with their surroundings because it looked extraordinarily like the colors surrounding them in the grasses.

Minty took off and kept close along the ground like Bilbo had suggested. When she finally landed she allowed Bilbo off.

“Very well,” Bilbo breathed as he flopped ungracefully off the dragon. He wasn’t sure if he could ever get used to flying around on a dragon’s back. “Stay out of sight and I’ll…” Bilbo trailed off as he calculated where the sun was in the sky. He figured he had a couple more hours of sunlight left. “I’ll be back before sunset if I find what I need.”

Minty blinked at him with a slight nod of her head and Bilbo gathered his courage up. His hand went into his pocket as he fished out his ring. He took a deep breath and put the ring on, letting the bizarre feeling wash over him.

Bilbo stepped forward giving one last glance back to the dragon as he approached one of the piers leading into the town. Looking down he realized a faint shadow on the ground and mentally noted that was something to be cautious about. Even if he was invisible his shadow could still be seen in the sunlight.

He was able to enter the town with little hindrances and Bilbo enjoyed being among people despite the town being fairly run down and smelling of fish and tar. It had been more contact with other beings than he’d had the past couple months and yet he was invisible and unable to actually interact with any of the Men.

Hurrying through the narrow wharfs that connected the town, Bilbo desperately sought out the market, hoping they’d have a decent stock of herbs and he’d be able to take what he needed without anyone noticing.

Bilbo felt terrible about having to steal from people who looked as if they were barely making a living and he hoped that it was worth it. He hoped that he’d have the skill to treat Smaug. The lives of the dwarves were dependent on this. The lives of Thorin and Frodo were dependent on this…if they were still alive.

He shook the vile thoughts from his mind as he eventually found his way towards what looked like the market area. It was disgusting and overwhelming and Bilbo nearly bumped into several of the Men.

The first thing he needed to locate was something like an apothecary. The market was chaotic and terrifying for someone of Bilbo’s stature. He stuck to corners and shadows and kept watching the market to determine where the best place would be to snatch up his supplies.

The sun was getting lower in the sky and Bilbo knew he had to hurry back to shore where Minty would hopefully be waiting for him. Finally, when the apothecary was busy with a few customers, Bilbo crept forward. He ran through all the knowledge of herbs he had and grabbed what he could of the healing herbs he recognized.

Before leaving the town completely, Bilbo was able to grab some small comfort items he had sorely missed over the past few months. Soap was one of them, along with some fresh bread and spices. He stashed the things into his satchel before anyone could notice their disappearance.

The sun was streaked with oranges and pinks by the time Bilbo returned to the shores of the lake and he trekked back to the forested area where he’d last left Minty. Once he reached the tree line he quickly pulled off the ring. Bilbo did not like the way the magic ring felt at all.

“Minty?” Bilbo called softly, his stomach beginning to tie itself in knots wondering what would happen if the dragon had left him there. Did she return to the mountain without him to tattle that he’d gone into the town of Men? “Minty!” Bilbo risked a little bit louder.

Suddenly the dragon appeared, shaking her wings and turning a golden color.

“I hope that means you’re pleased to see me,” Bilbo sighed as he went to tighten the cloth collar around her neck and make sure the blanket he was using as a saddle was still holding on. “I’m ready to go back to the mountain, and hopefully I’ll be able to treat that silly dragon. First we’re stopping in the Royal Chambers. I need to find some things before I can go to Smaug.”

The dragon once again lowered herself to accommodate Bilbo before spreading her wings and taking off stealthily back towards the mountain. Bilbo held fast to the makeshift reins and hoped he would not fall from the dragon’s back. He was a little disappointed as he felt the warm sunlight disappear when they returned to the cold mountain.

However, he was beyond relieved to see his room again and he unloaded some of the items he had picked up for himself. Quickly, he found the large pot he’d been using to boil water in and set it by the door where the dragon was. He left the room and went to go rummage through the other rooms in the wing for bed sheets and oversized robes to be used as bandages and rags to clean the dragon’s injuries. He ran to the kitchen and found a few more supplies he’d be needing for the treatment.

Once he’d loaded up enough of his supplies, he packed them all into the empty pot and frowned at the cumbersome item. He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to get it down to the treasure rooms.

“I don’t suppose you could take this for me could you?” Bilbo looked at Minty who had flushed a light magenta. She backed out of the room completely and into the vast hall, looking at Bilbo expectantly. Bilbo furrowed his brow as she bobbed her head once or twice. The hobbit pushed the large basin out into the hallway and Minty lowered herself for Bilbo to climb on.

“Yes, thank you, but I’ll need you to take the pot with us if you can,” Bilbo explained to the dragon again. So far Minty had done very well with directions given to her and Bilbo wondered if it was just the ring helping to ease their communication or if she were naturally that smart of a creature.

Minty impatiently bobbed again, the magenta going much darker.

“All right, all right!” Bilbo climbed on once she’d lowered herself again. After spreading her wings and getting them off the ground, the dragon hovered over the pot before taking it up in her claws. “Good girl!” Bilbo praised over the beat of wings as he tried to pet the dragon assuringly, though he wasn’t even sure if the dragon would feel it through her tough hide.

Although slowed down a bit by the heavy basin, Minty ferried Bilbo back down to the treasure halls where Smaug awaited their return. Bilbo had no doubt in his mind that they had been gone less than a day, but all the same he was nervous. Minty landed and Bilbo slid from her back as Smaug looked around to find the hobbit.

Suddenly a loud roar pierced the air and Bilbo nearly collapsed in fright.

“You went to Lake-Town?” Smaug bared his teeth as he swung his head around to confront Bilbo.

“H-H-How did you know?” Bilbo peeped.

“I can smell the filth of those Men all over you,” Smaug hissed. “That was not part of our agreement!” he roared.

“I couldn’t find everything I needed!” Bilbo defended himself. “I needed to go to a proper apothecary. While they didn’t have a wide selection, they had more than what I was able to find on the mountainside!”

“Did no one question your presence?” Smaug barked. “Did no one wonder what you are? What did you use to barter for these herbs? Gold from the mountain? What a foolish thing to do,” Smaug continued on without letting Bilbo answer.

“I’m not completely stupid, no!” Bilbo quickly interrupted. “Of course I was not foolish enough to be seen or to barter with any gold from this mountain. I used the ring to turn myself invisible and stole what I needed. I’ve never been a burglar before in my life, but the situation called for it and I feel quite dreadful about it, so one day I will try to pay them back.”

Smaug snarled once again before recoiling.

“Do what you can, then,” Smaug rumbled, shifting as the gold spilled away from him. He lifted his wing to reveal the nasty infected area.

“First I shall need some water!” Bilbo squeaked. “Where is the nearest source?”

“The River Running lies below the mines,” Smaug explained with a glint in his eyes.

“I can’t go down there! Do you want me to help you or not, you stupid beast?” Bilbo snapped. Smaug made an offended growl. “Don’t be like that, I told you, I’m trying to help!”

“I thought you had better manners than this, Ring-Bearer,” Smaug scoffed.

“I’ll be more polite to you once I know I can help you,” Bilbo remarked.

“And when you know your family is safe?” Smaug mused.

“Well, yes,” Bilbo muttered. “How do I know you’ll keep your word?” Bilbo asked as he unloaded his supplies from the pot to free it up for the water.

“An alpha cannot break its word to the Ring-Bearer,” Smaug explained simply.

“I hope you’re telling the truth,” Bilbo sighed, turning to find Minty. “Come along, Minty. If we need to, we’ll go back up to my chambers to get the water.”

If Bilbo didn’t know any better it sounded as if Smaug let out a huffy chuckle and the hobbit turned around to give Smaug an inquiring glance.

“What was that for?” Bilbo asked.

“You’ve named her Minty?” Smaug gave Bilbo a toothy smile—if he could even call it that.

“Does she have any other name I may address her by?” Bilbo questioned.

“No, by all means. I think she likes it,” Smaug commented, looking back to the color-changing dragon. Now Minty had turned a brilliant yellow. “You’ll have her domesticated by the end of the week if I do say so myself. A saddle and reins?” Smaug asked curiously.

“Well, it’s easier for me to hold on that way, and that’s not really a saddle it’s only a blanket, for my own comfort of course.” Bilbo explained nervously, wondering if he had insulted the dragon in any way. By Smaug’s comments Minty seemed quite content with Bilbo so he didn’t worry so much.

The hobbit turned and scrambled onto Minty and as soon as Bilbo was settled, the dragon’s claws latched around the empty metal pot.

After flying around the treasure hoard for a bit, Bilbo spotted a small alcove that looked as if it had been used by guards or whoever was needed down there in the treasure hoard.

They landed and Minty waited patiently for Bilbo to slide off of her back and go to explore the guard post. There was a small cot and a tiny kitchen. Possibly they had long shifts down there among the treasure? Whatever it was Bilbo was glad to have found it.

He went to the pump and wiggled the lever trying to get it to move. Putting all his weight into it, it finally creaked into motion. After several difficult pumps, water gushed from the spigot and Bilbo patiently waited for the water to turn from a rust color to more suitable clear water to fill up the pot.

“Very well,” Bilbo sighed once the pot was filled. “Now the only thing left is to boil the water before I use it. But if I boil it up here it would be difficult to try to bring down to where Smaug lies now,” Bilbo thought aloud. “I could bring the pot down with me but there’s not quite an area where I could build a fire and set the pot to boil atop of the flame.”

Minty bobbed her head impatiently from outside the guard’s alcove.

“What’s your idea then?” Bilbo asked. She stilled and peered at him with her golden eyes. The hobbit sighed wondering if he’d ever understand what the dragons were trying to communicate. He continued to frown at the pot of water, weighing different options in his mind. Suddenly there was a whooshing sound and a blast of heat and Bilbo looked up to see fire simmering in Minty’s jaws.

Bilbo raised his eyebrows and wondered if he were about to be roasted before he realized what the dragon was trying to tell him.

“Y-You can boil this once we get down there, can’t you?” Bilbo asked hesitantly. Minty extinguished the fire smoldering at the back of her throat and bobbed again. Bilbo quickly pushed the pot out of the small guardhouse and Minty reached for it with her claws as Bilbo pulled himself exhaustedly onto the dragon. His legs were screaming in protest at all the hopping on and off of the dragon’s back he’d been doing that day.

“I don’t think I shall be riding a dragon again for a very long time after this,” Bilbo muttered to himself. Minty carefully lifted them off the ground, hovering for a moment before starting back to where Smaug was resting.

“You’ve found water,” Smaug noted as Minty landed, setting the pot down. Bilbo ignored the larger dragon as he set about preparing his things.

Just as Minty had shown, she was able to bring the water to a boil by setting it alight by her internal fire. Bilbo wondered if the pot would withstand the insanely hot dragon fire as he shielded his face from the unbearable heat.

“That was—thank you,” Bilbo muttered as Minty finally extinguished her fire, leaving the pot boiling. “That’s actually very convenient.”

Soon Bilbo set to work cleaning the wound the best he could. Smaug growled continuously while Bilbo worked and he figured it must not have been very comfortable. Next Bilbo set about creating as much of a poultice as he could from the herbs he’d collected in Lake-Town. He couldn’t tell if it would be enough, or if it would heal Smaug at all. Dragons were quite different from hobbits or dwarves or any other race in Middle-Earth.

“May I ask you a question?” Bilbo asked as he worked to dab the poultice on the infected area.

“What is it?” Smaug rumbled.

“How do you know the name Oakenshield?” Bilbo asked. “You clearly took the mountain before Thorin earned the title and yet you referred to him as ‘Oakenshield’ when you came to Ered Luin.”

“I’m not completely cut off from the world,” Smaug explained. “I learn many things from the dragons that come and go from this mountain. The name Oakenshield is well known, crown prince of the Line of Durin, heir to a fallen kingdom.”

Bilbo huffed, irritated at the dragon’s insistence that everyone knew who Thorin was except for him.

“And you truly thought he was plotting to reclaim the mountain from you?” Bilbo questioned.

“It seemed like the most probable choice,” Smaug snapped back. “If he’s hidden his true identity from you, perhaps he’d hidden this from you as well.”

“No,” Bilbo shook his head as he grimaced at the infected wound he was working on. “No, he wouldn’t hide _that_ from me.”

But doubt crept into the back of his mind. Smaug was right - if Thorin had hidden that much from him, who was to say that he _hadn’t_ been planning something like that. How did a dragon a half a world away know, while Bilbo—Thorin’s own husband—had no clue whatsoever? Was love truly that blind? Bilbo pushed the thoughts from his mind, wondering if Smaug was able to poison his mind.

“Very well,” Bilbo muttered. “I’ll have to let this sit for a little while and then clean the wound again.”

“Don’t forget,” Smaug rested his head and gently folded his wing over the area that was being treated by the poultice.

“I’m too tired to go back and forth. I’ll stay down here for the time being,” Bilbo decided. He was still a bit of a mess and what he really wanted was to retire back to Thorin’s chambers and take a lengthy hot bath and forget about this whole mess. But Bilbo didn’t feel like climbing atop the back of Minty and being dragged back and forth.

He pulled off the blanket he’d been using as a makeshift saddle on Minty and sat against the color-changing dragon. The cold gold pieces and tough dragon skin didn’t make for a very comfortable place for a nap but Bilbo drifted off nonetheless.

It was a restless sleep, constantly being woken by dragon noises echoing in the cavernous halls, but Bilbo still appreciated a moment to lay down and rest. The day had seemed entirely too long for Bilbo’s tastes and all the stress of it had worn him out. The only thing that woke him up entirely was the growling of his stomach.

He sluggishly pulled himself awake and Minty immediately looked up with a small chirping noise.

“I’ll…I’ll need you to boil what’s left of the water so I can clean the wound again,” Bilbo told the dragon through a yawn. Bilbo then called to Smaug to let him know he’d be checking the wound. Smaug lifted his head, his glowing eyes fixating on Bilbo before nodding subtly and resting his head once again on the enormous piles of gold coins.

Bilbo carefully pulled himself back atop the dragon, nudging at his wing a little to get to the wound. Smaug slowly stretched his wing up and out of the hobbit’s way. The hobbit gently pulled back the bedsheets he’d been using as a bandage over the poultice. He grimaced at the herbal smell mixed with the lingering scent of the oozing wound.

Pulling back the rest of the sheet Bilbo carefully retreated back down the dragon and to the pot that Minty had finished setting ablaze. He let it cool for a moment until it was safe to touch and Bilbo dipped another sheet into the water and wrung it out before turning back to Smaug.

It took Bilbo a good while until the wound was properly cleaned and Bilbo sighed and looked at his handy work. It did look less inflamed and oozing but it still didn’t look very pretty.

“How do you feel?” Bilbo called as he moved out of the way of Smaug’s wing. The large dragon folded his wing once again as the small hobbit climbed off of his back.

“It doesn’t feel entirely healed,” Smaug remarked.

“Well, it wasn’t going to magically heal in an hour!” Bilbo huffed. “For it to properly be back on the mend I should apply the poultice a few more times over the next few days but I used all the herbs I was able to collect in this one.”

“I’ll see if this begins to mend. If it becomes entirely necessary…you will return to Esgaroth to retrieve more herbs. Only wearing your ring of course.”

“Yes, of course,” Bilbo nodded resolutely. “And my family? Will they be spared your wrath for a second…third! A third time?”

“I gave you my word, did I not?” Smaug rumbled quietly. “No harm will come to Oakenshield or the dwarvish settlement you hail from.”

Bilbo exhaled a large sigh of relief.

“I’ll come down and check on you in a few days time,” Bilbo told the dragon. “But for now I must retire, for I’ve had an exhausting day and I’m quite hungry.”

“You’re dismissed,” Smaug allowed before setting his head down to rest himself. Bilbo draped the blanket back over Minty’s back and slowly pulled himself atop the dragon. He cursed the soreness in his legs and wondered if he’d ever get used to climbing upon dragons.

The dragon took off and wound her way through the large cavernous corridors before reaching the Royal Chambers. She landed as softly as she could and Bilbo slid off for the last time that day. He pulled the blanket off of her back and untied the cloth scarf he had wrapped around her neck to help him hold on.

Minty turned a light yellow before chirping softly.

“Thank you for all your help today.” Bilbo rested his hand on the dragon’s snout. “Even though you dragged me into that mess. You’re quite convincing.”

The color-changing dragon butted her head up against Bilbo’s hand.

“Though I suppose it was good to try to convince Smaug I’m not completely useless,” Bilbo chuckled at the dragon’s playful behavior. Bilbo’s fingers found the cool ring in his pocket. Perhaps he did have some power with the ring. Smaug had agreed not to go back to Ered Luin and that was worth all of the stress and exhaustion.

Bilbo bid the dragon goodbye before heading towards Thorin’s chamber. He would appreciate a nice hot bath now but he was too exhausted. Bilbo laid down on the bed and closed his eyes for a moment before falling asleep.

**x**

“Come on, Uncle,” Frodo said as he crept into his uncle’s room. “We’re going to be late.”

Thorin looked up from where he was laying to see Frodo dressed in his best hand-me-downs and it looked as if someone had attempted to tame his curly hair. Sitting up, he groaned feeling even more guilty about his decision to stay home.

“I’m…I’m feeling sick,” Thorin muttered weakly, looking away from Frodo. “Go ahead without me. I think I should probably just sleep this off anyway,” Thorin told the young hobbit softly.

“Uncle Thorin,” Frodo muttered stepping further into the room. “I know you don’t want to go. I don’t either.” Frodo sat down next to Thorin on the bed. They were quiet for a moment and Frodo leaned his head against Thorin’s shoulder. “I’m scared and I think you are too. But this might be the last time we can…properly say goodbye to Bilbo.”

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” Thorin whispered, his voice breaking slightly. Frodo turned and wrapped his arms around his uncle. Thorin hesitated for a moment before turning and wrapping his own arms around Frodo. “I miss him so much I can hardly stand it.”

“I know,” Frodo whispered. “You might feel a little better though if you can find some peace in remembering him. I want you to be there with me. Dís and Fíli and Kíli are going too.”

“I know,” Thorin breathed deeply. “I just wished I’d never have to sit through a memorial service for him…especially so soon after we’d married,” Thorin muttered as a few warm tears dripped down his cheeks and into his beard. “I hardly had enough time with him…and you too. He should have seen you well into adulthood.” Frodo whimpered softly and nodded in agreement.

“We’ll see him again one day,” Frodo assured Thorin.

“I hope,” Thorin sighed. “With every fiber of my being.”

“Why do you say that you hope? Do you doubt that you will? Surely you will be reunited with him in the afterlife.” Frodo furrowed his brows as he pulled away from Thorin.

“I’m not sure if we have the same afterlife,” Thorin gently stroked Frodo’s curls. “I will go to the halls of my forefathers: The Halls of Mahal, our maker.” Frodo’s frown deepened as a few more warm tears dripped down his cheeks.

“Th-That’s not fair,” Frodo whimpered. “I’ll fight Mahal himself to see to it that you and Uncle Bilbo are reunited.”

Thorin gave his nephew a watery smile.

“I have no doubt in my mind that you would. I’ll be fighting Mahal and every single one of the Valar too, if I must,” Thorin assured Frodo. “Now, come on. I suppose your aunt will be furious with us if we get there too late. Though I need you to promise me something, Frodo,” Thorin told the boy with a grave tone.

“Yes?” Frodo looked to Thorin curiously.

“Keep hold of my hand and don’t let go.” Thorin offered his large hand to his young nephew. Frodo nodded solemnly.

The memorial service passed fairly quickly. Many candles were lit in honor of the victims of Smaug’s attacks. Thorin and his family were given seats near the front as guests of honor but Thorin would much rather have hidden in the back of the Great Hall. He wasn’t sure if his emotions would cooperate with him all the way through the ceremony, but he felt a little more stabilized with Frodo holding tight to his hand.

Dwarves who had been injured and had lost friends or family stood up and said a few words commemorating their dead loved ones or talked about the strength and endurance of Dwarves. Thorin supposed many of the dwarves there expected him to get up and speak but he knew he would not be capable of doing so.

Before Balin wrapped up the service one more speaker was allowed. Frodo slowly slid out of his seat and muttered a quick apology as he let go of Thorin’s hand and went up to the dais. Thorin watched in shock as Frodo stood before the gathering of dwarves.

“I know many of you knew who my uncle was,” Frodo started out. “The one hobbit mad enough to come and live with dwarves.” A sparse few watery chuckles were sprinkled through the room. “Mad enough, or brave enough,” Frodo continued, “my uncle, Bilbo, was one of the bravest people I knew and now I can never thank him or repay him for all his acts of bravery: of taking me in when I needed someone after my parents died, or moving us here to live in Ered Luin, or marrying my Uncle Thorin in front of nearly every hobbit in the Shire.” Frodo’s watery eyes flitted over to Thorin. Thorin could barely offer the hobbit a smile. “Or even protecting me from the calamity of Smaug and ultimately giving his life in order to protect me. I hope if he is watching over us now that he knows how thankful I am for his sacrifice and how much Uncle Thorin and I love him. There will never be a hobbit again like Bilbo Baggins. He would not want any of us to dwell on mourning or being lost in memories, but to continue living our lives the best we can for the loved ones we lost that day, knowing that we will see them again one day,” Frodo finished softly with a deep breath. “Thank you,” Frodo nodded before quickly stepping off of the dais and hurrying back to where Thorin and the rest of his family sat.

Dís quietly patted him on the shoulder as he passed her and Thorin pulled Frodo straight into his arms, allowing a quiet sob to escape.

“That was beautiful, my dearest hobbit,” Thorin whispered as Balin stood to give the closing comments. “I did not think you had it in you,” Thorin breathed shakily.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Frodo muttered softly. “I didn’t know if I would truly be able to stand and say anything.”

“I thank you that you did since I am completely unable to do…anything like that without becoming a mess like I am now.” Thorin gently rubbed his thumb over Frodo’s temple.

“You’re not a mess,” Frodo assured him. “No more than I am.”

“Regardless, Bilbo deserved someone to stand up and memorialize him and I’m glad you did,” Thorin pressed a soft kiss to the hobbit’s forehead. “I’m glad.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Thank you so much to [fishfingersandscarves](http://fishfingersandscarves.tumblr.com) for [ amazing fanart](http://fishfingersandscarves.tumblr.com/post/124708276105/for-kat-bc-i-love-her-fic-love-me-for-eternity-and) based on this chapter!!!
> 
>  
> 
> I'LL TRY TO STOP TURNING CHAPTERS INTO SUCH ANGST FESTS BY THE END I'M SORRY. Again sorry for the tiny delay, said new job has been overwhelming me with hours recently leaving all my free time exhausted and not in the mood to write. I'm hoping things will slow down soon but thanks for reading the latest chapter!! 
> 
> Also shoutout to any of you who can identify the kind of dragon Minty is~
> 
> Reminder you can find fic progress, etc. [on my blog! ](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com/tagged/love%20me%20for%20eternity)


	12. The Downed Dragon

Soon three years had passed without Bilbo in Ered Luin. Life had returned to normal for the dwarves now that rebuilding was complete.

Frodo had only continued to grow, desperately trying to catch up to his dwarf cousins both in height and strength. Despite Frodo’s eagerness to prove his worth to his dwarf family, Thorin had sheltered Frodo from anything that might cause the hobbit harm.

His hobbit nephew was left frustrated but had taken up helping Dís with her own duties and continued to work on his artistic skills. The journal Thorin had bought him for his fourteenth birthday had been filled within the next few months and since then Frodo had filled many more journals with his sketches and writing.

When he knew Thorin wouldn’t find out, he’d follow Fíli and Kíli to the training field on the days they’d allow the younger dwarves to train against dragons. He would sit and sketch the dragons and occasionally jot down notes.

Today was one of those days as Thorin had left early in the day for the blacksmith’s and Dís didn’t require Frodo’s assistance with anything, so she allowed him to follow Fíli and Kíli down to the training field.

Meanwhile, Dís’ day had been interrupted by the arrival of a strange man. She had been fetched to the front gate to greet the stranger.

“What can we do for you, sir?” Dís asked as the man dismounted his full sized horse and stroked his long grey beard thoughtfully.

“You must be Lady Dís of the Line of Durin,” the man took his hat off and bowed deeply in one sweeping motion. “My name is Gandalf the Grey, of the order of the Istari.”

“ _Tharkûn_ ,” Dís muttered.  Gandalf nodded in acknowledgement.

“I come seeking your brother, Thorin Oakenshield. I had need for a Bilbo Baggins as well,” Gandalf explained before looking down. “But I am sorry to hear that he has passed.” Dís frowned, wondering what the wizard wanted with Thorin as well as Bilbo.

“Why is it you seek my brother?” Dís asked, dreading his answer. If there was a wizard involved it rarely meant good news.

“I only mean to have a short discussion with him.” Gandalf gave her a pleasant smile. “If you could perhaps point me in the right direction to find him I’d be much obliged.”

Dís led the wizard to the main meeting hall and told him to wait while she fetched Thorin. She figured it would probably go smoother if she could give Thorin a little bit of warning before having to sit down with what was promising to be a little more than ‘a short discussion.’ And what would the wizard have wanted with Bilbo?

Dís arrived at the blacksmith’s and let herself in, feeling the sweltering heat of the forges wash over her. She immediately spotted her brother with his hair tied away from his face as he worked on forging a smaller throwing knife. She recognized the design.

“Is that for Fíli?” Dís asked.

“Oh, Dís.” Thorin finally looked up from his work. “It is,” Thorin confirmed before returning to his work. “He told me the other week he had lost a couple of his, so I figured I could make him a few new ones.” Dís admired the handiwork on one of the completed ones and smiled before remembering her true purpose for coming to find her brother.

“Thorin…there’s someone here to see you,” Dís explained as she set the knife down. Thorin looked up and frowned, realizing whoever it was, was not with his sister.

“Whoever it is, tell them I’m too tired to talk tonight,” Thorin muttered. He was not in the mood to listen to anyone else’s problems and he only wanted to see Frodo, eat dinner, and go to bed. Dís sighed.

“He mentioned something about Bilbo…I didn’t…I think you should talk to him. I’ve directed him to the main hall and told him you’ll be there shortly,” Dís explained softly and Thorin gave a ragged sigh and looked confusedly at Dís.

“About Bilbo?” Thorin frowned. “Why? Do you think he’s…Bilbo’s…been found?” Thorin barely breathed. Dís shook her head sadly.

“I don’t think so,” Dís admitted. “I don’t know. Just see what he wants.” Dís sighed. “Come find me when you’re done. Then we’ll head home and I’ll start dinner.”

“I don’t intend to be very long,” Thorin told her, exhaustedly.

“Just don’t be rude,” Dís reminded him.

“I’ll try,” Thorin gave a soft sigh.

When he entered the main hall, he was surprised to see his guest was as tall as a man. When the man turned to face him, Thorin recognized the wizard, his confusion only growing. Why hadn’t Dís told him it was the wizard?

“Thorin son of Thrain,” the man greeted him. “I am Gandalf the Grey.”

"I know who you are,” Thorin muttered. “Why are you here? What is this about?” Thorin asked. “Why is it my sister said you had mentioned Bilbo?”

“I had been searching for him in the Shire…his neighbor had pointed me here but told me the most unfortunate news.”

Thorin nodded, numbly. The wizard was only here about Bilbo, but why?

“What is it you needed of him?” Thorin asked, brusquely. “Perhaps I can help.”

“It is what I needed of both of you,” Gandalf replied vaguely. “But I suppose that will have to change now.”

Thorin frowned deeply, not liking the sound of the wizard’s words. He stood silently and waited for Gandalf to continue.

“I am sorry to hear about Mister Baggins,” Gandalf continued. “He was a kind little fellow.”

“If all you’re going to do is offer me condolences, then this conversation is finished,” Thorin muttered, turning to leave.

“No, that’s not the only thing I came to speak with you about,” Gandalf shook his head and Thorin stopped in his tracks to turn back to the wizard. He looked expectantly at Gandalf but the wizard did not seem keen on cutting to the chase.

“If I may ask, how exactly was it that Bilbo met his end?” Gandalf asked, almost conversationally. Thorin clenched his fist in rage at the question and how casual the wizard asked.

“ _Smaug,_ ” Thorin hissed through clenched teeth. Gandalf gave a low hum.  

“The dragon…was _here?”_ Gandalf asked. “Do you have any idea why?”

“None whatsoever.” Thorin folded his arms across his chest and avoided Gandalf’s gaze. “But Bilbo got caught in the middle of the attack…” Thorin trailed off as if he was trying to keep from placing the blame on himself again.

“Well, this is troublesome news. Even more troublesome than I thought,” Gandalf muttered.

“ _Troublesome?_ ” Thorin growled. He reined in his anger, he could already hear Dís scolding him if he lost his temper with the wizard. “Why is this _troublesome_ news for you?”

Gandalf remained quiet for a moment as if choosing his words carefully.

“I’ve come to urge you to march upon Erebor. Reclaim your homeland.”

“And this supposedly concerned both myself _and_ Bilbo? How?” Thorin tried to stop himself from grinding his teeth. Everything coming from the wizard’s mouth only seemed to enrage him more.

“I wished for him to accompany you. His mother knew much about the dragons. I thought he might have been able to help,” Gandalf explained. Thorin narrowed his eyes at the old wizard. It seemed there was more to the plan than he was willing to admit, but Thorin didn’t want to hear much more, regardless. Even if Bilbo were still alive, it was a ridiculous notion to begin with. He would not march to reclaim the mountain and especially not with Bilbo at his side. Even he knew that was a reckless and hopeless quest to undertake, especially after his father had failed.

“No,” Thorin snapped. “Whatever plan you had in mind, forget it. I will absolutely not return to that mountain when it and its inhabitant have taken so much of my family,” Thorin argued.  

“If the dragon is not dealt with…if the kingdom is not reclaimed, it could mean terrible things for all of Middle-Earth. There are already troubling things happening and I fear what will happen if nothing is done about Erebor,” Gandalf urged.

“The world can fall to ruin, _I will not march anymore of my kin against that dragon!”_ Thorin roared.

“It is your birthright,” Gandalf countered, calmly.

The door to the main hall opened and Thorin turned to shout at whoever was interrupting them, but was surprised to find that it was Frodo.

“Uncle Thorin?” Frodo called. “Fíli said he saw you come in here earlier…am I interrupting?”

“Who is this?” Gandalf asked, his dark expression lightening.

“Frodo, wait outside,” Thorin groaned.  “We’ll be done in a moment.” Frodo hurried out. Gandalf continued to look curiously at Thorin. “He’s…Bilbo’s cousin,” Thorin finally explained with a sigh.  “Bilbo took him in after the boy’s parents died in a dragon attack on the Shire. They moved here with me nearly seven years ago.”

Gandalf almost looked amused.

“You and Bilbo…” Gandalf trailed off.

“We were married, yes,” Thorin confirmed.

“Mister Gamgee, Bilbo’s neighbor—”

“I know who Hamfast is.”

“He told me Bilbo had married a dwarf. I’m only surprised it was you…”

“Excuse me?”

“Just an odd twist of fate,” Gandalf sighed as he stood up, taking out his pipe. “Perhaps you’d like to join me?” The wizard gestured to his pipe. “I would enjoy hearing how you and Bilbo met.”

“No.” Thorin clenched his jaw. “Wait here, I’ll go fetch my sister. She can get you set up in an inn for the night. But come dawn I want you out. I’ll not see any more harm come to my family or my kin. I must protect what’s left of my people and that does not include marching them half way across the world to try to defeat a dragon ten times larger than any we’ve ever faced before.”

Gandalf gave no response other than a low displeased hum. Thorin stomped out of the hall and as the door shut behind him he spotted Frodo waiting quietly for him.

“What was that about, Uncle Thorin?” Frodo quietly asked.

“Nothing, my dear Frodo.” Thorin pulled Frodo in for a hug and held tight to him for a brief moment.

“Uncle?” Frodo looked up. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Thorin bowed his head and kissed the top of the hobbit’s head. “Everything’s fine. Was there something you needed?”

“I just was heading home and I thought you may have just been in here with Dwalin, I didn’t mean to interrupt something important…” Frodo explained apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“It was nothing important,” Thorin assured him. “We’re going to go get your Aunt Dís and then we’re going to think of what we’re going to have for dinner.”

**x**

Dís arrived at the meeting hall to find the wizard waiting for her and smoking his pipe thoughtfully. She knew whatever conversation happened hadn’t gone well according to her brother’s mood, so her first instinct was to apologize profusely.

“Mister Gandalf, please excuse my brother. He’s not the most well-tempered, especially when it comes to…bringing up what happened to Bilbo,” Dís explained.  

“Most unfortunate…I’m sorry to hear what has happened,” Gandalf sighed. “But most intrigued by how it all came to be.”

“You would be,” Dís smiled sadly. “You said you were a friend of Bilbo’s mother?”

“I knew Belladonna back in her more adventurous days,” Gandalf explained.

“I’ve been told she was fascinated with dragons…even after her own husband had been killed by them,” Dís remarked.

“She was quite taken with the beasts. I was hoping that affinity and knowledge of dragons had been passed down…”

“If you don’t mind me asking…why did you come here in search of Bilbo and Thorin?” Dís asked.

“I suppose you would dislike the reason just as much as your brother,” Gandalf muttered. “But it is of utmost importance.”

“Please, I’m not as ill-tempered as my brother,” Dís explained cautiously. “Perhaps I could help you get through to him?”

“I came about Erebor,” Gandalf explained.

“Has something happened?” Dís dropped her voice and asked curiously.

“It _must_ be reclaimed,” Gandalf continued. “I wish for Thorin to lead a company of dwarves to march upon the mountain.”

“And you wanted Bilbo to join them on this quest,” Dís realized as she clenched her jaw. “For what reason? For whatever knowledge of dragons that might have been passed down to him by his mother? He wouldn’t have been able to help you, I’m sorry to say,” Dís snapped, beginning to realize the reason for her brother’s sour mood.  

“I had a special task in mind for him,” Gandalf vaguely told her.

“Yes, I’m beginning to see why Thorin stormed out of here so quickly,” Dís muttered darkly, folding her arms across her chest.

“The reclaiming of the mountain is of utmost importance,” Gandalf argued. “Not only for your people, but for all the people in Middle Earth.”

“So you would have Thorin lead my family and friends into certain death?” Dís raised her eyebrows. Gandalf remained quiet as he continued to puff away on his pipe. “Don’t get me wrong, I would love to see the mountain reclaimed. But I would also like to see my family live to die of old age,” Dís explained. “I have seen too many of my family fall on the battlefield. It would be considered an honorable death but we have no need for honor now. We have seen too much death for any of us to want an end such as that.”

“There would be no guarantee of their death,” Gandalf finally tried to persuade her.

“There would be no guarantee of their survival either.” Dís frowned. “Come, Mister Gandalf. I’ve already sent word that you will be staying in one of my good friend’s inn.” Dís put an end to the conversation.

**x**

When she arrived home she found Frodo and Kíli already working in the kitchen to prepare their meal. Thorin and Fíli were sitting before the fire with their pipes quietly discussing something before Dís entered their home.

“Gandalf has been dealt with,” Dís told him as she walked by and squeezed his shoulder gently.

“Thank you,” Thorin sighed.

Dís turned her attention to her son and nephew in the kitchen and joined them to help finish making dinner.

As the meal was nearing completion Fíli came over and began to set the table. Finally they sat down and began to eat.

“Who was that man you were talking to?” Frodo asked as he swallowed a mouthful of potatoes.

“No one,” Thorin muttered.

“He’s a wizard and was an old friend of your Uncle Bilbo,” Dís explained. “He’d only just heard the news and came to offer Thorin his condolences.”

“How did he know Uncle Bilbo?” Frodo asked. “I don’t remember him.”

“He knew him when he was a lad,” Dís continued. “He was a friend of Bilbo’s mother.”

Frodo nodded as he continued eating and Thorin looked wearily at his sister. It was silent for a while, save for the sound of the dwarves and hobbit eating.

“I wonder what Uncle Bilbo was like as a child,” Frodo pondered aloud.

“Probably always getting into trouble,” Dís smiled. “Just like his nephew.”

“I don’t get into trouble!” Frodo protested with a laugh.

“He used to tell me he’d pretend he was off on adventures finding dragons like his mother,” Thorin gave a small smile as he told Frodo.

Frodo smiled broadly in return and Thorin couldn’t help but allow his own smile to widen in response.

It fell quiet again for a few moments before Frodo spoke up again.

“You know when I was younger I thought you and Bilbo had known you’d fall in love,” Frodo commented, looking up at Thorin. “As if you knew something I didn’t. As if you knew if you came and escorted us home that one day you’d end up marrying my uncle.”

“Oh?” Thorin blushed. “No, we certainly didn’t know,” Thorin chuckled softly. “Though I remember seeing you crying and Bilbo trying to pick up his things…I knew I had to help. Perhaps it was some…instinct that that moment would change everything.”

“Like love at first sight?” Kíli supplied.

“Not quite.” Thorin shook his head. “I certainly didn’t fall in love the moment I saw him. I didn’t even think that it was possible…he was a hobbit after all. And I believed Frodo to be his son. I would have had enough honor not to pursue a married hobbit.”

“When did you start to fall in love with Bilbo, then?” Frodo asked.

“Hm,” Thorin hummed, thinking to himself. “I was certainly enamored after the first meal he cooked for me.”

“The wonders of hobbit cooking!” Frodo exclaimed.

“Indeed.” Thorin’s smile turned a little sad.

“Now finish your dinner. That’s enough for tonight,” Dís quickly cut in before Thorin could dwell too much on his mostly dormant grief.

With that, they finished up dinner and Thorin helped Dís clean up and wash the dishes.

Once they were mostly done and dried, there was a crash and both Dís and Thorin turned to find the cause.

Kíli had Fíli in a headlock on the floor and Frodo was on Kili’s back trying to pull him off of his elder cousin.

“Frodo, get off of Kíli, you’re going to get hurt. If you two want to kill each other go to your room. Frodo, it’s time for your bath,” Thorin called to them.

“Uncle Thorin!” Frodo groaned.

“Would you like me to take you up there myself and throw you into the tub, clothes and all?” Thorin threatened jokingly.

“I’m going,” Frodo sighed as Fíli and Kíli chased each other to their room.

“That’s what I thought,” Thorin muttered as he watched Frodo trudge up the stairs.

“What was that for? It’s a tad early to be sending Frodo to wash and to bed,” Dís frowned.

“I didn’t like how rough they were being with Frodo,” Thorin explained, softly.

“Thorin,” Dís sighed.

“Where was Frodo at today?” Thorin asked, diverting their conversation. “He interrupted my discussion with Gandalf and I thought he had been with you.”

“He’s been begging to return to training with Fíli and Kíli. It’s been three years, Thorin. Frodo’s not a child anymore, you know that. I let him go down with them today—” Thorin looked livid, “—and I told him just to watch until he talked to you about it,” Dís shrugged, trying to avoid Thorin’s wrath. “I honestly don’t know why you no longer like the idea of Frodo knowing his way around weapons or how to defend himself against dragons.”

“Dís,” Thorin sighed. “You know it’s difficult for me to…after what happened to Bilbo,” Thorin muttered. “The only reason Bilbo is gone is because Frodo felt like he had a duty to face the dragon on my behalf.”

“Thorin,” Dís hissed. “I thought we were past placing blame on anyone for Bilbo’s death.”

“I’m not placing blame,” Thorin sighed. “I just don’t want him…thinking he has to risk his life just to try to keep up with us. I’ve lost Bilbo and I can’t lose Frodo too.”

“So you’re just going to lock him away forever?” Dís groaned. “That’s not how you handle this situation, Thorin. You do realize he’s a growing boy, don’t you? He’s upset and restless and just wants to be treated like everyone else.”

“He’s just so different from the hobbit I met back in the Shire,” Thorin muttered. “It feels like I need a Hobbit handbook or something of the kind…I only wish Bilbo were here. Frodo probably wouldn’t feel like this…feel like he’s being left out, if Bilbo were still here.”

“You don’t need a ruddy Hobbit handbook!” Dís rolled her eyes. “You need to realize the boy feels left out because you purposefully leave him out of everything!”

“What do you want me to do, Dís?” Thorin looked exasperated at his sister. “He’s not a dwarf.”

“I know that, you oaf.”

“I _can’t_ treat him like a dwarf,” Thorin clarified.

“The reason he’s so out of touch is because you don’t. You treat him like…like treasure that you’re afraid is going to be stolen. We know how well that worked out for our grandfather,” Dís threatened.

“That’s not even comparable. Don’t jest,” Thorin snapped.

“Fine, you treat him like he’s a fragile wounded animal. He’s grown up here, and is a part of our family. You should know better than to assume he’s helpless or stupid,” Dís argued. “Well, I take back the latter,” Dis winced as she heard another crash come from her sons’ room.

“You see this?” Thorin pointed to the top of his head. “I’m already getting grey hairs because of him. I cannot allow him to be placed in any danger. I cannot lose him due to some….careless training accident.”

“You’ve never worried about Fíli or Kíli in this way,” Dís huffed.

“They’re dwarves and they are built to withstand this life. They can handle themselves,” Thorin explained.

“And Frodo can’t?”

“No,” Thorin replied brusquely.

“He’ll never be able to if you don’t give him the chance.”

Thorin looked defeated and considered his sister’s words quietly for a moment, realizing she was winning the argument. At long last he gave an exhausted sigh.

“Fine. No dragons though - if he wants lessons he can have them here at home. That’s it.”

“It’s a start, I suppose.” Dís shrugged.

Once they had finished with the dishes, they put them away silently before deciding to rest in the living area and smoke their pipes.

“Did you talk to Gandalf any further after I found you?” Thorin asked, reclining back on the sofa.

“A bit,” Dís muttered. “I can see why you were upset. I’m actually surprised you held together as well as you did.”

“You’re not upset with me?” Thorin asked.

“Why would I be upset? Did you think I’d want you to risk our kin’s lives for an impossible task?”

“I seem to remember you wanting our homeland reclaimed,” Thorin raised his eyebrows.

“Not with that level of risk involved..and to want to entangle poor Bilbo into this mess only because his mother knew a bit about dragons…” Dís sighed.

“Ridiculous,” Thorin agreed.

“And what about Frodo? Did Gandalf truly believe you’d both leave him behind? Or even bring him along with you?” Dís rolled her eyes.

“Doubt Gandalf even knew about our taking care of Frodo,” Thorin admitted. “Seemed surprised when Frodo interrupted us and addressed me as ‘Uncle Thorin’.”

Dís smiled, her lips curving around the stem of her pipe.

“Makes me wonder what Bilbo would have said about this whole mess,” Dís mused. Thorin chuckled.

“Probably deny the wizard and his proposal solely on the account that it would disrupt his eating schedule,” Thorin suggested with an amused smile.

“True,” Dís watched her brother with a smile of her own. They were quiet for a while as they both puffed on their pipes. “You know,” Dís exhaled, “it’s good to see you smiling and talking about Bilbo again. It’s been a long time.”

“It feels good,” Thorin admitted quietly. “I’ve repressed any lingering thoughts of him for so long only because I was terrified of the grief it would inevitably bring. I still miss him, but…” Thorin trailed off, absently staring into the fire. Dís acknowledged her brother’s response with a low hum.

There was a quiet noise on the stairs and Thorin looked up to see Frodo peeking down at them as if he was still a small child waiting to be scolded for being up past his bedtime. Thorin extinguished his pipe and put it away before heading towards the stairs.

“Can I join Fíli and Kíli now?” Frodo asked quietly.

“We need to talk,” Thorin told his youngest nephew as he started up the stairs to meet Frodo.

“Am I in trouble?” Frodo asked. “I didn’t mean to…I didn’t have much to do today and I haven’t…I asked Aunt Dís if it would be okay—”

“You’re not in trouble,” Thorin gave a tired smile. “Come on. We’ll go sit in your room.”

“All right,” Frodo sighed. “I’m not going to bed yet, though. I haven’t had supper yet.”

“You didn’t have enough at dinner?” Thorin sighed. Frodo shook his head.

“Oh, very well. It’s a bit early for bed anyway, we’ll get supper when we’re finished,” Thorin assured the hobbit.

Thorin entered Frodo’s room behind the hobbit and Frodo anxiously tried to hide the small mess from his uncle before settling on his bed. Thorin sat at the corner of Frodo’s bed, his fingers slowly threading through the furs spread out on the bed. Frodo stayed quiet, anxiously awaiting whatever lecture he was about to receive from Thorin.

“Your aunt tells me you’ve wanted to return to training with Fíli and Kíli,” Thorin started simply. Frodo nodded quietly. “I still don’t like the idea,” Thorin continued. “I don’t want to see you hurt, you know that.”

“I won’t get hurt. Fíli and Kíli will be there to watch over me,” Frodo assured his uncle.

“They don’t do such a fantastic job at protection, really. Have you heard the story about Kili’s dislocated shoulder and fractured leg?” Thorin asked and Frodo shook his head. Thorin smirked and began to retell the tale of one of the accidents from the earlier days of the two brothers’ training. Part of Thorin had hoped that would scare Frodo off of wanting to train.

“Uncle Thorin,” Frodo stated carefully. “I’m not intending on growing up to become a dragon hunter.”

“Are you sure? That’s what you said you wanted to be when I first met you,” Thorin teased. Frodo gave an exasperated sigh.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Frodo assured his uncle. “I like helping Aunt Dís with overseeing trade, but I would like to learn so I can stop…feeling like I don’t belong.” Thorin’s stomach sank, realizing Dís was right.

“Frodo,” Thorin muttered. “Of course you belong.”

“No, I don’t. I’m a hobbit,” Frodo folded his arms and avoided Thorin’s gaze. “Every other dwarf my age has already faced a dragon in training.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Thorin mused. “Most dwarves your age are still babes.”

“You know what I mean. Every dwarf at my level of maturity,” Frodo clarified. “If I’m going to live here, I don’t want special treatment. I want to grow up like the rest of the dwarves. I’ll take on a craft when I’m older but for now I want to know how to defend myself.”

Thorin smiled softly at the hobbit.

“Listen to you talk,” Thorin chuckled. “Just like a dwarf, you are. Talk of taking on a craft…you know, I couldn’t be more proud.”

“Well, I say craft…” Frodo mumbled. “It’ll probably be more along the lines of a hobbit living. Do you think Ered Luin has a need for calligraphers? What about bakers? I don’t suppose there’s much need for gardeners around here, but I’m not much of a gardener anyway…that’s much more Sam’s area of expertise.”

“Listen,” Thorin smiled, “I told your aunt that I’d allow you to resume training.”

“Really?” Frodo asked.

“Yes, but for now only here at home, all right?” Thorin continued. “We’ll review the basics and go over simple forms here at home. Then we’ll talk about if this… _calligrapher_ needs further training.”

“It was only an idea!” Frodo protested with a smile.

“Nonetheless,” Thorin returned the smile. “We’ll talk about it then.”

“Thank you, Uncle Thorin.”  

**x**

Six months passed quickly there in Ered Luin. Frodo spent nearly every afternoon reviewing simple training exercises with Fíli or Kíli and occasionally Thorin.

“Uncle Thorin,” Frodo called as he took a break from his training for the afternoon. “I’m becoming bored with these exercises, I want to try something new.”

“You want to try dragons?” Thorin gave an unamused look to the hobbit. Frodo fidgeted hesitantly.

“You don’t have to throw him to the dragons if he wants something new,” Kíli suggested. “I was restless at his age too but you didn’t let me near the dragons till I had a little more real experience under my belt.”

“You’ve thought this through,” Thorin gave another unimpressed look to his elder nephews.

“We just thought, maybe next time Kíli and I go out on a hunting trip we could bring Frodo?” Fíli explained. “Not a dangerous excursion, just something simple but enough to be a change in his drills.”

“Hm,” Thorin considered his nephews’ plea. “Not a hunting trip,” Thorin decided. “Patrol. That way there will be more dwarves in your party. It’ll make me feel safer if you’ve got a bigger group than just the three of you in case something does happen.”

“When’s the next patrol?” Frodo beamed. “When can we go?”

“Let me think about it,” Thorin sighed. “I don’t think Fíli or Kíli were assigned a patrol for at least the next couple weeks, but I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, Uncle Thorin!” With that, Frodo ran forward and wrapped his arms around Thorin’s chest.

**x**

Within the next week Thorin solidified the organization of a patrol and put Fíli in charge.

They made their preparations and soon the patrol was upon them. Dís made sure they had everything packed and woke up early to see them off and cook them a large breakfast before they left.

“All right,” Dís sighed, checking the pack for what must have been the tenth time. “Remember you’ve got your extra food here, fresh change of clothes in here—”

“Aunt Dís,” Frodo smiled. “You already went over this with me three times last night.”

“Do you remember where everything is?” Dís asked and Frodo nodded.  

“‘ _Amad,_ we’ll take good care of him. Make sure he gets all of his extra meals, protect him from getting splinters…” Kíli entered the room with his own pack slung over his shoulder. “It’ll be fun.”

Frodo beamed excitedly at his cousin.

“We have to get going,” Fíli yawned as he finished packing his own things. “I can’t be late if I’m the one leading the patrol.”

“Big important patrol leader,” Kíli teased his brother.

“If anything happens return immediately,” Thorin told his nephews, though it was mostly directed at Fíli. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“It’s only a few days and it’s a patrol. Nothing is going to happen,” Kíli rolled his eyes.

“Stay alert,” Thorin warned Kíli. “Be careful,” Thorin then directed his warning at Frodo.

“We’ll be fine, Uncle Thorin,” Frodo smiled before giving his uncle a hug.

“Come on, give your aunt a hug too,” Dís reached for the hobbit.

“Mahal, you’re all acting like you’re sending us into battle alone,” Kíli groaned. “We can take care of ourselves.”

“Listen to your uncle and don’t lower your guard. I do hope you realize I would disown you if anything happened to Frodo,” Dís threatened.

“Aunt Dís, stop,” Frodo grumbled.

“Oh, am I embarrassing you?” Dís raised her eyebrows at the hobbit. “Be safe, little one.”

Frodo continued to grumble before giving Dís one last hug.

At last they were off towards the main gates of Ered Luin, Frodo excitedly keeping up with his cousins.

Before long they were on the road with five other dwarves to patrol the areas around the Blue Mountains. They trekked through the path the patrols usually took and took a break midday for lunch.

Soon they’d stopped to make camp and Frodo anxiously paced around the campsite, still almost feeling like an outsider. The other dwarves had been on patrol with Fíli and Kíli many times before and had delved into familiar conversation with one another. The only other dwarf who looked awkwardly out of place was Gimli who was still younger than all the dwarves there. Frodo remembered that Gimli had gone out on patrol several times before but wasn't quite part of the normal group just yet.

Frodo took a seat next to Gimli and pulled out his sketchbook to sketch some of the birds he had seen that day.

“I imagine the lighting isn’t ideal for your sketching,” Gimli noted as he dragged a twig through the loose soil on the ground.

“It’s not,” Frodo sighed as he squinted at the pages. “I’m just a little bored, to be honest. I begged Uncle Thorin to let me come and…”

“Aye, these patrols aren’t very thrilling,” Gimli nodded as he held the twig closer to him and brought out a knife to begin whittling it down.

“Has anything exciting happened to you while you’ve been out here?” Frodo asked, giving up and shutting his journal once again.

“I believe the most excitement we’ve ever had was coming across a wild herd of mountain goats, but that’s about it.” Gimli shrugged.

“Even that would be more exciting than an endless hike through trees with nothing happening,” Frodo commented.

“Why don’t we go collect firewood to keep us entertained? Maybe we’ll run into a dragon or two,” Gimli suggested, an excited gleam in his eye.

“Gimli, that’s probably not a good idea,” Frodo sighed.

“I only meant a Terrible Terror! I doubt there’s anything bigger out there or else we would have heard it already,” Gimli assured Frodo.

“Very well,” Frodo sighed, reaching for his small dagger Thorin had gifted to him on his last birthday. The two stood from their spot and Fíli took notice.

“Where are you two headed?” he questioned.

“We’re going to get firewood,” Gimli explained.

“We have plenty of firewood,” Fíli argued.

“It seems like we’ll be getting rain the next day or two so we might as well collect some dry kindling,” Gimli shrugged.

“Which is code for ‘we’re bored of sitting around at camp even though it’s dark out and we shouldn’t wander too far from camp now that the sun has set’,” Kíli laughed.

“It’s a full moon tonight,” Frodo protested. “There’s plenty of light to see by.”

“Hm,” Fíli considered their pleas for a moment. “I know you’re restless too Kíli. Go with them and return within the hour.”

“Ach, Fíli,” Gimli groaned. “We don’t need a nanny.”

“I’m not your nanny,” Kíli scoffed as he collected his bow and quiver of arrows. “Come on.”

The trio headed into the forest surrounding their campsite.

“Maybe I can catch some rabbits for a late night supper,” Kíli suggested, nudging Frodo a bit. “I know you probably didn’t get enough at dinner.”

“You’re hardly going to spot any rabbits with the racket you’re making,” Frodo retorted. “But that would be nice,” Frodo decided. “We should probably collect some firewood too since that’s the reason we gave for coming out here.”

“I see a few dead trees up ahead I could chop down,” Gimli pointed and gripped his axe tight in his hands.

“You two collect firewood, I’ll go see if I can catch a few more rabbits,” Kíli agreed as he started off in a quieter direction. Gimli started toward the dead trees, singing a song in Khuzdul that Frodo could only understand a few parts. From what he gathered it was a mining song and Frodo reluctantly followed behind, picking up loose twigs and branches off the ground. He followed the trail of twigs where he could find the most kindling and soon he realized the sound of Gimli’s voice and the swing of his axe seemed fairly far away. Frodo shrugged, knowing his way back to camp easily enough. Luckily he did not have Thorin’s sense - or lack thereof - of direction.

When his arms were nearly full of kindling, he paused in a clearing to look up at the bright full moon. Suddenly a large dark shape soared overhead and Frodo’s breath caught in his throat. It was clearly a dragon, its massive translucent wings almost glowing as it passed in the moonlight.

He trembled as he watched a few more shapes swoop overhead and his heart nearly stopped, hoping that the dragons were not interested in him or the patrol of dwarves.

Suddenly there was a loud crash and Frodo flinched, dropping all of his collected firewood.

Just ahead of him he could see where the dragon had landed. He stilled for a moment and waited to see if the dragon would get up and notice him. It gave a painful sigh before stilling completely.

He knew he should turn around and find Gimli or Kíli or any of the others but Frodo couldn’t will himself to move. When he finally took a step, it was toward the beast, not away. Surprising even himself, he assured himself the dragon must be dead and that this was his only chance to see a dragon this close. Dragon roars echoed in the distance but Frodo paid them no mind.

After what seemed like a lifetime, he was within reach of the dragon. Studying the characteristics, mostly the massive wingspan, he identified the dragon as a Timberjack. He admired the twisted ridged horns on its head and the odd stringy beard under its snout. Frodo would have laughed at the strangeness of it if he weren’t terrified. His fingers twitched as if deciding if it was still a good idea or not. Finally, willing his arm to move his fingers outstretched toward the dragon’s burnt orange scales.

The moment his fingers made contact, the dragon’s eyes snapped open and its pupils narrowed to watch Frodo intently. It looked panicked; however, the dragon made no move to attack. It was badly wounded and it seemed alert yet strangely docile beneath Frodo’s fingers.

“H-Hello,” Frodo breathed carefully, fearing anything louder than that would startle the dragon. It rumbled as if in response to Frodo’s greeting. Chills shot up Frodo’s spine as he stared in awe at the dragon. His hand gently slid to rest completely on the dragon’s snout. “You’re not so bad,” Frodo murmured. “Are you sick? Or hurt? Is that why you fell?”

The dragon purred quietly in response while Frodo gently rubbed its snout, being careful not to get too close to its sharp teeth.

Another shadow passed overhead and Frodo swallowed thickly to look up and see another dragon swooping down from overhead, its sharp wings slicing through treetops. Frodo flinched, instinctively put his arms up to try to protect himself from the falling debris. The dragon suddenly reared up and spread its wings to shield Frodo from the thick tree branches threatening to crush him.

Sharp branches sliced through the dragon’s already battered wings and it roared in pain. Frodo whimpered loudly, terrified and confused by what was happening.

When things finally calmed, Frodo opened his eyes to see the dragon unfolding its wings and collapsing back to the ground. Another Timberjack had appeared in the clearing and made a few chirruping sounds before noticing Frodo, who was still crouched near its fellow dragon. Suddenly a deafening roar came from the new dragon - directed right at Frodo.

Soon Frodo was caught in the middle of a roaring argument between the two dragons.

 _“Frodo!”_ The hobbit could hear the terrified voice calling his name. Frodo didn’t dare try to call back and he hoped whoever it was wouldn’t get caught in the middle.  He’d lost too many people to dragons because of him and he was not about to lose another.

Finally he saw Gimli’s ashen face appear at the edge of the clearing and soon the dwarf spotted him. Frodo shook his head, and as if deciding on something Gimli steeled himself, gripped his axe with two hands and charged forward towards the dragon nearest Frodo, baring his axe.

“Gimli, _no!_ ” Frodo cried.

The dwarf swung his axe, narrowly missing the dragon’s maw, yet bringing it down and through part of its wing.

The dragon reared up, using its tail to steady itself as it spread its wings to try to avoid the attack but Frodo could now see in the moonlight they were a bloody mess. In addition to Gimli’s attack, the dragon had been badly injured by the falling trees and whatever else beforehand. Blood drenched the dragon’s massive wingspan and it was a dreadful sight to behold.

Scrambling away from the terrible sight Frodo caught sight of the other Timberjack watching them intently and preparing to pounce on them.

Gimli tried to pull at Frodo as a sudden barrage of arrows as the rest of the patrol broke into the clearing. They concentrated their efforts on the Timberjack that was about to attack as the dragon reared up and spread its wings. However, it realized it was outnumbered and was not willing to take on the full patrol of dwarves.

As soon as the other dragon was safely out of range, the dwarves turned their attention to the injured dragon. Frodo was still crouching near it while Gimli desperately tried to pull the hobbit out of harm’s way.

“Wait! It isn’t dangerous!” Frodo cried as he was pulled away and the dwarves began to attack. In response, the dragon unleashed a barrage of flame to protect itself. “Stop attacking!” Frodo shouted as he heard the blood curdling shrieks from the dragon as the dwarves directed their attack towards it. The sounds made Frodo’s skin crawl and he felt nauseous as he watched the dragon be pinned and tackled by dwarves.

“Wait!” Frodo broke from Gimli’s hold and charged forward. “Please stop!” he continued to yell. “Don’t! Don’t kill it!” Frodo screamed. The Timberjack flailed again, trying to reach any dwarf it could with its razor sharp wings in a bid to get away.

Kili ran towards Frodo, helping Gimli pull him away from the area but Frodo fought him and continued to scream for them to stop. After an agonizing few moments, the Timberjack was contained and subdued. It could fight no more.

“Are you all right?” Kíli asked breathlessly. “Frodo!”

“Y-Yes, Kíli, I’m fine!” Frodo answered shakily. Kili’s relieved expression quickly turned stern as his hands gripped the hobbit’s shoulders. “What were you doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Kíli hissed.

“Don’t kill it,” Frodo hiccuped drying his face. “He’s hurt because he tried to save me from the other dragon…please.”

“Frodo, what else are we to do with it?” Kíli snapped. “You have to let us do our job. That job is protecting our home and that means killing dragons that threaten it if need be.”

“Don’t kill it,” Frodo repeated. “It’s not threatening our home! Can’t we take it home for use in training?” Frodo quickly asked. “Maybe we can learn something from it.”

“That’s much too dangerous,” Kíli sighed as Fíli came over.

“We don’t have a Timberjack at the training grounds. It’d be good to take with us and use in training,” Frodo begged. “It’s injured, it can’t hurt us.”

Another painful grunt came from the dragon as the dwarves prepared to kill it.

“Please don’t let them!” Frodo exclaimed in distress, wriggling out of Kili’s grasp.

“Stay here,” Fíli murmured as he caught Frodo before he went too far. “Do not come closer.”

“Don’t let them kill it. Please, Fíli,” Frodo begged.

“Stay with Gimli,” Fíli repeated. “Kíli, with me,” Fíli nodded to his brother.

They turned their back on their cousins and made their way back to where the dwarves stood at the ready. Frodo watched anxiously as Fíli talked to a few of the dwarves. There was a small argument but after some discussion the dwarves began to bind the dragon to immobilize it.

“I can’t believe it,” Gimli muttered. “They’re not going to kill it.”

“Thank goodness,” Frodo breathed.

“Why were you in this clearing to begin with? Fíli said not to wander too far!”

“I went further than I thought…and I was here when the dragon crashed…I…I just…” Frodo muttered trying to find the right words to explain. “That dragon, it protected me from the other one. It doesn’t deserve to be killed. I think it’s sick anyway,” Frodo continued.

“It probably won’t live very long if we even manage to get it back to Ered Luin,” Gimli explained carefully. “The wounds it has…and if what you said is true, any illness it has will shorten its lifespan even further.”

“Hopefully we can at least use this experience as an educational one,” Frodo muttered.

The dwarves worked through the night. Camp was moved closer to where the dragon was and a sledge was built for the dragon to be dragged home on. Frodo anxiously wanted to go to see the dragon but the dwarves kept him at a safe distance.

“The dragon has wounds that need tending,” Frodo protested.  

“Frodo you’re to be kept safe. Do you even know the kind of lecture I’m already going to get from Uncle?” Fíli muttered. Frodo grumbled but accepted it and watched the progress from afar.

By the time dawn broke, they were making preparations to leave. The dragon was now completely still and hardly breathing. It was slowly killing Frodo to see the dragon suffer so much. Perhaps it would have been kinder to let the dwarves kill it.

Many of the supplies that had been packed for the weeklong patrol had been dropped in order to accommodate pulling the great weight of the dragon. Even then the ponies were having a hard time pulling the sledge along and many of the dwarves complained about the patrol being cut short and having to lug a half-dead dragon all the way home.

“We are a walking target bringing that dragon home!” one dwarf proclaimed. “We’re going to attract every dragon in the area and we can’t move with any kind of speed.”

Fíli frowned, deeply considering the others’ concerns.

“If we run into trouble, we cut the dragon lose and flee,” Fíli decided. “But for now we’re taking the dragon home.”

The other dwarves gave a groan and Fíli looked to Frodo who exchanged exhausted looks, but Frodo made sure to convey how grateful he was to his elder cousin.

Before they could attempt to move the dragon again another small grouping of dwarves with mountain goats as their mounts converged upon them. Frodo was both relieved and terrified to realize Thorin was the one at the head of the small grouping. Among them were Dwalin, Nori and Glóin—who looked relieved to spot his son alive and unscathed.

“The sentry spotted dragon fire, what happened?” Thorin barked towards Fíli as he pulled his mount to a halt. His eyes widened as it landed on the dragon tied to the sledge. _“Where’s Frodo?”_  Thorin snapped, his voice trembling a little.

“I’m right here, Uncle.” Frodo moved through the patrol to face his uncle. The exhaustion overwhelmed him and emotion bubbled over as he hurried forward, wrapping his arms around Thorin’s armored middle.

“Thank, Mahal.” Thorin clung to the young hobbit. Soon Gimli followed suit and ran to his own father, pressing their foreheads together.

“What happened?” Thorin asked again, first to Frodo and then looking up to find Fíli. “Why is this dragon being pulled back to Ered Luin? Did the dragons attack you?”

“I’ll give you all the details once we get home,” Fíli told Thorin with an exhausted, wordless plea that Thorin press no further until they were all safe at home and well rested. “For now all you need to know is that this dragon has been severely wounded and Frodo wished to bring it home to study since we have no Timberjacks available for training and do not know much about them.”

“ _Uzbadu men_ ,” one of the dwarves addressed Thorin. “Excuse me if I’m speaking out of turn but the dragon is an unnecessary risk. It should be killed. It’s not worth the effort to try to return it home.”

Thorin frowned for a moment before turning to Fíli who gave a defeated look, pleading for Thorin to take control of the situation. One day he would have to be a leader and make these decisions but for the time being he was too exhausted to function.

“P-Please, Uncle Thorin,” Frodo sniffled, looking up at his uncle. “That dragon saved my life.”

Thorin gave a startled look to his hobbit nephew.

“It’s not dangerous now that it’s so badly wounded and I’m curious about it. I think Bilbo would have been curious too,” Frodo explained in little over a whisper. Thorin looked over to Dwalin, wordlessly asking his advice.

“Not a bad idea,” Dwalin shrugged. “We haven’t gotten any new dragons in a long time and we’ve never had a Timberjack,” Dwalin offered and Thorin gave a defeated sigh.

“Very well.” Thorin gave in. “Dwalin,” Thorin nodded over in his cousin’s direction. Immediately the goats were moved to take over the position of the ponies. The three of them had taken the goats because they were so much faster than the ponies, but now they proved themselves useful in another way. The goats would be able to pull the sledge much easier than any pony could.

They returned home just after sunset and those on the patrol immediately left for their own homes to rest from their ordeal with the dragons.

“Glóin, once you get Gimli settled at home, fetch for your brother to see to the dragon,” Thorin told the red-haired dwarf. Glóin nodded solemnly before escorting Gimli off in the direction of their home.

The dragon was carefully brought in through one of the few other entrances into the mountain. This one was closer to the training grounds and had been used in the past for moving dragons into the training area. However, it had been quite some time since they acquired new dragons.

Even as the dragon was moved into the enclosure and its bindings cut off, it hardly moved and its wounds continued to ooze.

“Your fool of a nephew,” Dwalin chuckled under his breath as he watched the dragon.

“Which one?” Thorin huffed a little.

“Frodo,” Dwalin answered. “Wanting to go to all this trouble for a half-dead dragon….and Fíli for agreeing to go along with it.”

“We still haven't heard the full story but I don’t think I’m going to like it,” Thorin grumbled.

**x**

Frodo was exhausted. He’d been awake since the night before and the exhaustion of traveling and surviving the dragons had been even more wearing.

Dís had been extremely relieved when they arrived home and had hot soup waiting for them.

“ _‘Amad_ , we just want to sleep,” Fíli protested.

“Something in your belly first, then sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up, trust me,” Dís protested, pushing a bowl of soup into her sons’ hands. Frodo tried to sneak upstairs to his room but Dís caught him. “You too, Frodo,” Dís snapped.

Frodo reluctantly turned back and accepted his bowl of soup.

“Mahal, Frodo,” Dís gasped as she got a good look at his face. She wet a cloth and came over to gently wash the hobbit’s face. It stung a little and Frodo winced in pain, not even realizing he had been injured. “It’s just a few scratches,” Dís muttered under her breath. “How is it always you that gets the most injured?” Dís sighed. “Hold still, and I’ll go get a few bandages.”

Once they were done with their soup and Dís had finished bandaging the scratches on Frodo’s face, the three headed for bed.

Dís cleaned up the bowls of soup and filled one for herself while she waited for her brother to come home.

It was late in the evening before Thorin finally got in and he looked almost as exhausted as the dwarves who had been on patrol. Dís sighed, considering how they had been woken in the middle of the night the evening before by Dwalin to alert them of the dragon fire that had been spotted. He had been awake nearly as long as the ones on patrol with just a few more hours sleep under his belt.

“Soup?” she asked as she headed toward to the kitchen to the pot where the soup was still slowly simmering.

“Please,” Thorin nodded.

“What happened?” Dís asked softly as she handed the bowl to her brother.

“I don’t know much but I know we have a badly injured dragon in our care now,” Thorin started as he sat down with his bowl.

 _“You brought the dragon that attacked our children home with you?”_ Dís hissed in surprise.

“I didn’t have a choice, Frodo was begging me to spare its life and bring it home,” Thorin grumbled.

 _“Frodo_ was begging you?” Dís asked incredulously. “ _Mahal,_ what happened?”

“I haven’t gotten the full story out of them yet but what I’ve gathered is that the dragon saved Frodo’s life somehow,” Thorin raised his eyebrows. Dís just stared at her brother unbelievingly and shook her head.

“That boy’s history with dragons and now _this?”_ Dís sighed.

“I know. I’ll have Fíli give me his full report tomorrow after we’ve all rested,” Thorin shrugged as he slurped down his soup.

**x**

The next morning Fíli told Thorin everything he knew about what had happened on patrol. He started with when Kíli, Gimli, and Frodo went to go look for firewood. Kíli chimed in to explain how he had split off from Gimli and Frodo to go hunting for rabbits and after a little while he saw a few dragons overhead and one in particular flying incredibly close to the ground. He’d feared that it might have spotted Gimli or Frodo at that close range and he already had his arrow nocked and ready to fire. In the split second it flew overhead he was able to fire at the dragon but he wasn’t sure if he’d hit his mark.

Fíli continued, saying that he and the others had heard the dragon crash and knew that the other three were still out there in the forest and went to find them.

While the two dwarves continued to regale Thorin with their version of events, Frodo remained quiet.

Eventually Thorin interrupted the two and turned towards Frodo.

“What is your version of events, Frodo?” Thorin asked sternly. “You were as much part of this patrol as they were and by the sounds of it you have quite a different version of events to tell.”

Frodo sighed and pursed his lips before starting to tell Thorin about when he had split off from Gimli unknowingly and went on to list how things had happened. When he finished, Thorin had a pinched look on his face, probably from realizing how close he had been yet again to losing Frodo.

Thorin desperately wanted to look over to his sister and say, ‘I told you so’ because she had been the one to push him into allowing Frodo more freedom. There would be time for reveling in the fact that he was right later; for now he was only glad Frodo was alive.

“Would it be all right if I went to see the dragon?” Frodo asked, interrupting the tense silence.

“Absolutely not,” Thorin barked.

“Uncle Thorin—” Frodo started.

“I don’t want you near that dragon again…or any dragon for that matter,” Thorin argued. “Besides, I’m only saving you heartbreak. The dragon does not have an optimistic future. Óin said it’ll never be able to fly again even if it does recover. It would be more humane to let it die rather than continue a miserable exsistence,” Thorin explained. Frodo’s lip quivered and Thorin’s stern expression faltered. “Just…” Thorin muttered softly. “Try to forget about the dragon. Maybe we’ll plan a nice trip to the Shire to get away from all of this for a while, hm?” Thorin offered.

Frodo said nothing and retreated to his room, slamming the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A few quick Khuzdul notes:**  
>  _Tharkûn_ \- The Dwarves' name for Gandalf  
>  _Uzbadu men_ \- my lord
> 
> Thanks again for your patience regarding this chapter. Work seems to keep snowballing so what started as a small part time job has turned into 40 hours a week and I just haven't had the energy to write (though I have already started the next chapter which is rare for me since I usually take a week or so after publishing one before starting the next chapter!!)
> 
> And it really feels like we're finally getting into the real meat of the story (finally after nearly 100k words in but at least we're here eheh). Thanks for continuing to read!! 
> 
> You can find me [here on tumblr](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com/post/124687601703/chapter-12-the-downed-dragon-dragons-had-always) and my thank you to my wonderful beta [Kate](dyllanobrien.tumblr.com) as well!!
> 
> [also happy one year anniversary to this fic and the HTTYD 2 movie release - like a month late but hey!!]


	13. Distraction from the Dragons

Bilbo could never be sure of the exact way time passed in that mountain but he was certain that several years had now passed. By this point, Bilbo had begun to feel a little more comfortable around the dragons. He went from barely leaving the Royal Chambers to slowly venturing further and further out. Bilbo had started to try to map the places around where he had settled. That plan soon failed when Bilbo ran out of whatever parchment he’d found lying around and lost his only piece of charcoal he’d been able to find in Dís’ old bedchambers.

Minty was his ever-faithful companion who helped guide him if he got lost and brought him regurgitated fish every couple days.

Bilbo had visited Smaug a couple more times, still feeling quite uneasy with him compared to the rest of the dragons that lived there in the mountain. He supposed it was just Smaug’s intimidating presence as an Alpha but Bilbo still didn’t like it.

Luckily, Smaug’s wound had healed enough to stop troubling the dragon. It left a nasty scar but it had healed and Smaug had given his word not to return and attack the dwarves.

Since then Bilbo had scarcely gone to see the dragon. He kept himself busy with learning about the other dragons. Bilbo knew all their mannerisms and was beginning to identify individual dragons by their markings.

On one of his many trips exploring the mountain he’d discovered Erebor’s vast library. The archives were in a wretched state with how long they'd been abandoned. As he searched, he was reminded how old Thorin was and how much he'd lost. Bilbo tried to imagine a much younger version of his husband perusing the shelves in the vast collection. It still seemed so bizarre to Bilbo that this had been Thorin's life nearly a century before Bilbo had been born.

He spent weeks upon weeks searching through the old tomes until he discovered what he’d been looking for. The front of it was an illustration of a dragon with nothing written on the front. He picked it up and gently flipped it open. There were beautiful yet terrifying illustrations of dragons on the inside.

Bilbo's khuzdul was rudimentary at best but he could figure out it was a basic book on dragons. Since then he’d poured over the book and had been working on translating it the best he could. For all the dragons he’d never seen before he at least had names of what kinds of dragons they were. For instance, he found out that Minty was a dragon called a Hobblegrunt. Outside of discovering the names, Bilbo wasn’t able to discern much else from the book other than what the pictures inside illustrated.

By this point it was becoming difficult to keep track of all the dragons in his head. Oh, what he’d give to have a ledger or a journal to record the dragons that he encountered regularly and to make his own notes on their behavior like his mother had. But now, Bilbo was absolutely sure, he had collected much more information than his mother could even imagine.

For now, he was well fed by the dragons that lived there in the mountain. Like Minty, many of the dragons brought Bilbo his daily food. There was a little more variety in the food now. Instead of regurgitated fish they began bringing him undigested rabbits and birds for his meal. Bilbo always tried to convey how grateful he was to the dragons when they brought him food, even though he still wasn’t completely sure if the dragons understood him.

In return he took care of the dragons, each of them coming to him if they had an ailment. Bilbo had no idea how he came to be the caretaker for these dragons but soon he found himself cleaning out scratches and removing problematic teeth. The first time his fingers even wandered towards a dragon’s open maw, he questioned his sanity altogether. But these dragons trusted Bilbo and understood his status of Ring-Bearer, which baffled Bilbo to no end.

Bilbo started to contemplate returning to the town on the lake. Maybe there he could find the proper utensils needed for marking down all of his observations. He knew Smaug wouldn’t like it as he recalled the reaction the dragon had when Bilbo had ventured to the town to collect the proper herbs he needed to heal the Alpha dragon. For the time being he pushed the thought from his mind and collected a little more information about how much Smaug kept tabs on him. Perhaps only then he could plan a little excursion outside of the mountain.

**x**

Frodo spent the next few days avoiding his family altogether. He was upset about the dragon and Thorin keeping him from going near the training ground. After all it was only there because of Frodo and he wanted to thank the dragon for protecting him before the dragon inevitably died from its injuries.

In an attempt to distract Frodo, Thorin had begun arrangements to return to the Shire for a short time. He’d decided to visit the Shire in time for the Midsummer’s Eve celebration hoping that most of Frodo’s relatives would be in attendance to see their young hobbit cousin.

Frodo was furious.

Under any other circumstance, he’d be thrilled. Frodo had only returned to the Shire once after Bilbo’s death. He had gone with Dís, whose excuse had been that she was interested in talking to the merchants in the hobbit market about setting up trade. Frodo soon found out that Dís was mostly interested in visiting the Shire just to get him to visit family and assure them that Frodo was doing all right since losing Bilbo.

Frodo had since realized Thorin had been too nervous to return to the Shire after delivering the news of Bilbo’s death. He supposed three years had been long enough for Thorin to decide he could once again show his face in the Shire.

Either that or he was truly desperate to get Frodo out of Ered Luin to make him forget about the dragon.

The night before they departed Frodo had resolved to sneak out and go to see the dragon, feeling as if it’d be the last time to see the dragon alive.

He waited and listened until everyone went to bed and waited even longer. If there was even a chance that someone would catch him, Frodo didn’t dare leave his room.

Finally, once it was late enough, Frodo cautiously opened the door to his room and silently crept downstairs. Fíli had been the last one down at the training padlock and Frodo found the keys lying on the side table near the front door. He secured his cloak over his shoulders and carefully opened the door. He was soon moving silently through the mostly dark city. There were a few lanterns still burning low but most of the usual sconces had already been put out for the night.

A few dwarves were still lingering in the streets and Frodo noted how intimidating they looked. His stomach dropped realizing how incredibly livid Thorin would be if he found out Frodo had snuck out at this time of night. Part of Frodo wondered if he should turn around immediately, contemplating the fact that he might not make it home alive between the dragons and the late-night dwellers.

Before he could make up his mind a dwarf approached him and his heart rate nearly tripled.

“You’re the hobbit lad,” the dwarf noted. “Looks like it’s a little late to be out on your own. Does your uncle know about your little excursion?”

Frodo swallowed hard as he spotted a knife on the dwarf’s belt.

“N-No—” Frodo stammered.

“No, he doesn’t know?” the dwarf raised his bushy brows.

“Oi, Fumir, you’re scarin’ the boy to death,” a somewhat familiar voice interrupted. Frodo looked around to find Nori standing behind the intimidating dwarf.

Most of the time Nori frightened Frodo a little bit. From the first time he met him, Frodo could still remember being frightened by him and the look in his eye. Since then he had gotten to know the dwarf better. Sometimes Frodo would spend time with the dwarf’s younger brother, Ori, and Nori would occasionally check in on them. He didn’t seem so bad after that and now he seemed like a savior.

“I was only seeing if the lad needed help home,” Fumir explained to Nori as he approached.

“N-Nori,” Frodo breathed.

“Get out of here, I’ll take care of ‘im.” Nori nodded to the dwarf who returned to the pub. “Now, what do you think you’re doing out here?” Nori sighed. “I imagine Thorin wouldn’t be very happy with you sneaking around. Besides, I heard from Ori you’re leaving for the Shire soon.”

“Tomorrow morning,” Frodo confirmed.

“Tomorrow? Well, no doubt Thorin wants to get up as soon as possible and get to travelin’. You’re going to be a sorry one tomorrow, even if you don’t get caught.”

“You’re not going to tell Uncle Thorin on me?” Frodo looked up pleadingly at the dwarf.

“Course not,” Nori smiled. “That is, only if you tell me where you’re headed at such a late hour.”

“No, you’re definitely going to take me home if I tell you,” Frodo sighed and stared down at his feet.

“You don’t know that,” Nori smiled. “You wouldn’t be heading over to the dragons’ den would you?”

Frodo stared at the dwarf with wide eyes, wondering what kind of response he should give.

“O-Only because I want to see that dragon and Thorin won’t allow me anywhere near them but I wanted to see the dragon one more time before I left! U-Uncle Thorin said the dragon would be lucky to live another week the other day and…and I just…I wanted to thank it for saving me.”

Nori gave a thoughtful look to the boy before sighing.

“All right,” Nori decided. “Who can refuse that look?” Nori chuckled as he started to lead Frodo off. “Are you comin’?”

“You’ll take me there?” Frodo stared, astonished.

“Sure,” Nori shrugged. “Not very dangerous when the dragon is half dead.”

“Yet Thorin demands that I be kept away from it,” Frodo sighed. “I don’t know why. I’m mature enough to handle these things.”

“He still sees ya as a young lad,” Nori explained. “It’s his instinct to keep you that way - young and innocent. Just like Dori tried to do to Ori and myself. Didn’t work so well with me, at least,” Nori continued. Frodo smiled, remembering the dwarf’s elder brother. He, along with Nori and Ori, had joined them in the Shire for Bilbo and Thorin’s wedding and Dori was continually fussing over Ori and attempting to fuss over Nori.

They talked a little bit more about dragons and what had happened on the patrol before they finally reached the training grounds. Making their way to the padlocks, Frodo could feel his stomach churn anxiously, wondering if this was a good idea after all.

“Come here, I’ll teach you how to pick a lock,” Nori offered.

“I brought the keys,” Frodo replied.

“Hah!” Nori raised his eyebrows at the proffered keys. “You’d make a fine burglar, you know,” Nori grinned at the boy. Frodo smothered his smile and shook his head, handing the keys to Nori. “Not that I’d know anything about that,” Nori quickly added with an innocent smile as he unlocked the first gate to enter the dragon area.

Frodo had never been this close to where the dragons were kept and his stomach continued to twist itself into knots.

“Now we just have to find your dragon, eh?” Nori let them into the last padlocked area that held the dragons. They passed other padlocked areas where most of the dragons were asleep. A few had heard the disturbance and lifted their head to see who had entered their padlock so late at night.

A Deadly Nadder got to its feet and pressed against the padlock’s door, nostrils flaring. Without thinking Frodo grabbed a hold of Nori’s arm.

“There’s no need to worry,” Nori muttered. “The dragons kept in here are given sedatives in their food. They don’t have the energy to attempt anything.”

“That Nadder didn’t look sedated,” Frodo whispered.

“Maybe that’s one of ‘em that’s more resistant to the sedatives,” Nori suggested. “I believe that’s the same Nadder that nearly took my arm off when I was young and still bein’ trained here. Still got the scar and everything.” Nori rolled up his sleeve on the arm Frodo was holding on to. Even in the dim light Frodo could see the long stretch of pale scar tissue.

“Can we just find the Timberjack?” Frodo’s grip tightened on Nori’s arm.

They continued down the corridor before finally finding the paddock of the dragon they had recently acquired. Frodo went to the door and peered inside. The dragon was tucked in the furthest corner, it’s wings folded awkwardly as they were trying to heal. It hardly looked like it was breathing, but Frodo could see its abdomen rise and fall.

“Hello,” Frodo called quietly. “It’s me, from the forest.” The dragon didn’t move or acknowledge that anyone was at the door. Frodo turned back to Nori. “Open the door.”

“Are you insane? Thorin’s already going to be livid with me,” Nori hissed.

“He won’t find out,” Frodo promised.

“Oh, he’ll find out eventually,” Nori sighed.

“But I have to go in! Maybe it’ll recognize me if I can touch it,” Frodo turned his gaze back to the dragon.

“Mahal’s beard, no,” Nori shook his head. “Make your peace with the dragon from here.”

Frodo gave a frustrated whimper and was quiet for a little bit as he watched the dragon.

“Thank you for saving me,” Frodo finally whispered. “I won’t forget it.”

Frodo sighed and turned away.

“Good?” Nori asked. Frodo nodded looking back at the dragon once more. He hoped it wouldn’t have to suffer for much longer.

“Yes,” Frodo sighed, following Nori out of the enclosure, making sure the dwarf locked it back up, securely. Nori assured Frodo he’d see him home safely even if that meant incurring the wrath of Thorin.

“If anyone asks, I didn’t take you to see the dragon. I’m only taking you home after finding you out past the appropriate time for a young hobbit to be out and unaccompanied.”

“Thank you, Nori,” Frodo quietly thanked the dwarf.

“Ah, well, I was young once too,” Nori sighed.

Though it wasn’t long before Thorin did find them. He was flush with anger yet relieved to find Frodo was fine. Frodo was completely startled that Thorin was already awake and looking for him.

“There you are!” Thorin growled.

“Th-Thorin,” Frodo gasped when he spotted him. Nori tried to slip away and Thorin stopped him.

“Nori, what exactly was your role in all of this?” Thorin snapped before Nori could go anywhere.

“I only found ‘im wandering around a little while ago and I was on my way to return him home!” Nori defended himself.

“You’d better pray to Mahal that I don’t discover that to be a lie,” Thorin threatened.

“Honest to Mahal, that is the truth,” Nori swore.

“It’s true,” Frodo sighed quietly, wanting to defend his ally.

“What do you think you were doing being out this late?” Thorin now turned his wrath towards Frodo. Nori took Thorin’s lack of attention towards him as a chance to flee.

“Nothing,” Frodo instinctively answered.

“You know, you’re lucky Dís woke up and decided to check in on you. Who knows what could have happened if we didn’t discover you were missing until morning,” Thorin scolded him.

“I had Nori with me, I was fine!” Frodo protested.

“I don’t know if I count that as ‘fine.’” Thorin began leading them home, a firm hand on Frodo’s shoulder. “What did you think you were doing?” Thorin repeated.

“Nothing,” Frodo repeated.

“You better not have been going to see that dragon,” Thorin warned. Frodo stayed silent, his hand gripping the key ring underneath his cloak. Thorin heard the slight sound of the keys jangling together and that’s all he needed to know. He pulled Frodo’s cloak back to find the keys in Frodo’s hand and quickly snatched the key ring away.

“Do you realize you could have been seriously hurt or killed? I’ve told you time and time again, forget that dragon. Forget all those dragons. I have half a mind to just be rid of all the dragons in Ered Luin but even if I did that, you’d probably wander around in the wilderness until you happened upon another one,” Thorin snapped.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Frodo mumbled.

When they returned home Dís, Fíli and Kíli were awake, anxiously waiting for them to return.

“Oh, thank Mahal,” Dís sighed as she spotted Frodo. “You scared me to death.”

“You could have at least woken Fíli and I up to go with you,” Kíli teased, sleepily.

“I found him with Nori,” Thorin explained.

“You _what?”_ Dís frowned.

“He just wanted to get me home safely,” Frodo explained and Dís gave a low hum.

“And why were you out in the first place?” Dís asked. Frodo remained silent and avoided his aunt’s gaze. Thorin held up the key ring and Dís immediately recognized it. “Frodo,” Dís gasped.

“It’s not fair, that dragon is dying and I just wanted to see it one last time! I know it’s dying and it’s my fault it’s dying a slow death!” Frodo argued.

“You have a kind heart, there’s no denying that,” Dís sighed, pulling Frodo into an embrace. “We’re just doing what we think is best for you, and I hope you realize that at some point. Now come on, let’s get you back to bed,” Dís sighed as she helped undo Frodo’s cloak.

“We’re still getting up early to head to the Shire tomorrow morning,” Thorin reminded them.

“Can’t you delay your trip one more day?” Dís asked, hanging the cloak up. “You’re going to be miserable if you have to wake up early after tonight.”

“We’ll miss Midsummer’s Day if we delay any further. We’re leaving tomorrow,” Thorin denied. “Get what rest you can,” he told Frodo. Dís sighed as she herded her brother and nephew up the stairs to their bedrooms. Fíli and Kíli stayed downstairs in the living area, talking quietly to one another.

Thorin went immediately to his room and shut the door while Dís followed Frodo to his bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed as Frodo crawled under the covers again.

“It’s going to be an early morning for you,” Dís muttered as she adjusted the bedding and pulled it up to Frodo’s chest.

“Can’t you come with us?” Frodo muttered. “I don’t want to go with Thorin. He’s just going to scold me the whole time.”

“No, he won’t,” Dís sighed. “Regardless of what you believe, this isn’t a punishment trip. It’ll be a good chance for you and Thorin to enjoy yourselves and perhaps go visit some of your family.”

“I just wish it wasn’t only me and him,” Frodo sighed.

“I know,” Dís sighed, gently taking Frodo’s hand. “It’ll only be for a couple weeks. Try to enjoy yourself. Say hello to Samwise for me, I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see you.”

Frodo nodded silently.

“All my Took and Brandybuck cousins will be there, won’t they?”

“I imagine a few of them might come to Hobbiton to celebrate Midsummer’s Day.” Dís shrugged. Frodo sighed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his cousins; it was just that it had been a long time and the last time he saw his cousins, they all stared at him and treated him differently than they had before he moved to Ered Luin.

Frodo sighed.

“Get some good sleep. I’ll be up in the morning to see you and Thorin off,” Dís promised him as she stood up and gently placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Goodnight,” Frodo yawned before turning onto his side and settling in bed.

**x**

Frodo was miserably exhausted the next morning; everyone was, in fact. Thorin had dark circles under his eyes and he’d hardly taken the time to comb his hair or do his braids properly. Frodo had decided to forgo his braid altogether but packed away the small hair bead that usually adorned it in a small pouch in his pack.

Dís smiled sleepily at Thorin and Frodo as she saw them out, too tired to even double check they had packed everything they needed.

Soon they were headed out of Ered Luin each upon a pony of their own with the supplies they’d need to make it to the Shire. Neither one of them had said a single word to each other that morning. Frodo wondered how long the silence would last between them. Part of him considered it was just too early for much talking, especially from Thorin, but the other part of him could sense how furious Thorin was with him still.

Frodo hardly wanted to break the tense silence between them, but the sun was rising further in the sky and he certainly had not had enough for breakfast with their exhausted, rushed departure.

“Uncle Thorin, are we going to stop for lunch?” Frodo finally asked. Thorin pulled his pony to a halt in response and led it off the road a little ways. After finding a good place to rest, Thorin began to dig in his pack for the lunch Dís had packed them for on the road.

Frodo hesitantly dismounted his own pony and led his over to where Thorin’s pony had found a nice patch of grass to graze on. Thorin handed him a small loaf of bread, cheese, and cured meats neatly wrapped up in cloth.

“Thank you,” Frodo muttered, finding a seat in the shade to start on his meal. Thorin remained standing, picking bits off the loaf of bread and keeping his eyes on the road. “Uncle Thorin,” Frodo called softly.

The dwarf turned to look at Frodo.

“I don’t want you to be mad at me this entire trip,” Frodo stated quietly.

“I’m not mad,” Thorin told him softly.

“Well, it seems like you are.” Frodo frowned down at his lunch.

“I’m just tired,” Thorin explained. “And disappointed.”

Frodo’s stomach twisted.

“I don’t know why you wouldn't let me at least see the dragon once more. If you had agreed you could have taken me there myself instead of making me sneak out at night,” Frodo argued.

“Why is that dragon so important to you?” Thorin sighed as he took a seat next to Frodo. “After everything the dragons have done, taken your parents, taken your home, taken your uncle….” Thorin trailed off. “Just because you believe this dragon was protecting you?”

“It did protect me, dragons aren’t the monsters we believe they are, I know it,” Frodo protested.

“And I might believe you if dragons hadn’t taken so much from me, but as it stands dragons have been the cause of all the misery in my life.”

“If you weren’t called to the Shire because of the dragons, you wouldn’t have met Bilbo or I,” Frodo argued quietly. When Thorin said nothing in response Frodo continued. “If Smaug hadn’t come to your mountain kingdom you would have never ventured close enough to the Shire to have ever met us.”

Thorin looked distant and cold and opened his mouth several times as if to snap back a retort and recalling it at the last moment.

“I’m sorry,” Frodo sighed. “I shouldn’t have…”

“You’re right,” Thorin croaked weakly. “It’s just hard to thank these dragons when they’re the same ones who robbed me from almost everything I hold dear.”

“I know,” Frodo nodded. “Did you know that Bilbo’s mother never hated the dragons for her husband’s death?”

“I did. I see now that takes incredible strength. More strength than I’m capable of,” Thorin muttered.

They continued their lunch in silence for a little while before Thorin spoke up.

“You didn’t put your braid in this morning,” Thorin observed.

“I was too tired,” Frodo admitted. “Besides, we’re traveling.”

“Did you even bring it with you?” Thorin asked with a little edge to his voice.

“Of course, I did!” Frodo defended himself.

“Go retrieve it,” Thorin insisted. Frodo sighed and stood up to find the pack with his bead stashed away. He returned and deposited the bead in Thorin’s hand before sitting in front of him. Frodo finished the last of his lunch as Thorin braided his hair and put the bead in. Once he had finished, Frodo felt his uncle’s large hand gently card through his curls. “Thank you,” Thorin murmured as the hand disappeared from Frodo’s hair.

Before long they had mounted their ponies again and were back on the road.

**x**

The week seemed to drag on for Frodo, who was anxious to get to the Shire, but was also wishing he were back at home in Ered Luin. Honestly, he only wanted to be somewhere where he wasn’t alone with Thorin for the entire day. The initial painful tension had passed, but Frodo was still eager to be anywhere else rather than dealing with his grumpy uncle.

As they crossed the borders of the Shire, the green hills, bright sunshine, and yellow fields brought a smile to Frodo’s face.

“Ah, you’re smiling,” Thorin raised his eyebrows as his pony kept pace with Frodo’s. As quick as it had appeared, it disappeared with a glance over to Thorin. “Well, you were,” Thorin sighed. “I told you this would be good for both of us.”

Frodo mumbled incoherently as he pulled ahead of his uncle.

Soon they were seeing farmers tending to their fields and other hobbits out in their pony-led carts. As they got closer to Hobbiton more hobbits appeared on the road, out for a walk or heading to market.

A few hobbits gave them polite smiles, and others stared at the odd pair, surprised to see the two back in the Shire. Frodo wondered how much gossip had been spread since Bilbo’s death. By the time late afternoon rolled around they arrived in Hobbiton. As they stopped at the Green Dragon, Frodo’s gaze was pulled to the distant hill with the half charred oak tree.

“We’ll visit Sam’s family tomorrow,” Thorin assured Frodo. Frodo nodded as his gaze drifted down to the Party Tree and large field that was already being prepared for the festival. Frodo’s stomach lurched, dreading the overwhelming festival.

Of course, hobbits loved any excuse to eat and Frodo was one of them. He only felt trepidation at the thought of all of his cousins acting strangely around him as they had when Dís had accompanied him home to the Shire last time.

He figured it wouldn’t do well to dwell on it that night and instead followed Thorin into the Green Dragon after their ponies had been stabled. Frodo was incredibly grateful to sit and finally get a full hot meal in his stomach.

Suddenly, there was a flurry of motion and Frodo looked up to see a red-faced, sweaty Sam beaming from ear to ear.

“Sam!” Frodo cried, pushing himself away from the table and standing.

“Mister Frodo!” Sam hurried over and wrapped his arms around him the moment Frodo had straightened. “I only just heard that you’d arrived!” Sam gasped in excitement. “I ran down here quick as I could!”

“My, word travels fast.” Frodo smiled fondly at Sam. His friend had grown just as much as he had but retained the round cheeks and the plump hobbit figure. Frodo was almost ashamed at his thinner frame. His dwarf family tried to keep up with his hobbit meals; however, it just wasn’t quite the same as growing up in a hobbit family.

“Oh, Frodo, it’s good to see you again,” Sam said with a sigh of relief.

“I know, Sam.” Frodo returned Sam’s lopsided smile with one of his own. “We have a great deal of catching up to do.”

“Oh, we most certainly do,” Sam agreed heartedly.

“Pull up a chair, Sam,” Thorin offered.

“Yes, sir.” Sam nervously sat down at their table.

“Uncle Thorin wasn’t going to let me come visit until tomorrow,” Frodo broke the almost uncomfortable silence. Thorin gave his nephew a wary look, as Frodo immediately painted Thorin as being cruel for prohibiting him from seeing his friend until morning.

“He was probably right to,” Sam hesitantly agreed catching the look Thorin was giving Frodo. “You’re both probably exhausted and I came running down here before you’ve had a proper chance to rest!” Sam exclaimed, nearly getting back up and excusing himself from the table.  

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sam,” Frodo smiled. “Stay.”

Sam politely asked about their journey to the Shire and Frodo gave a detailed recount of their mundane trip from Ered Luin. It didn’t take long before Frodo was yawning and beginning to nod off.

“I believe it’s time for us to retire. You’ll have to excuse us, Samwise,” Thorin told the young hobbit. “Tell your family we’ll come calling around noon tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Sam nodded before bidding them goodnight once more.

**x**

The next morning Frodo slept in and rose sometime in the late morning. He could tell he had already missed at least one breakfast and possibly second breakfast as well. Frodo didn’t mind too much as he’d missed several of his meals on the road just to continue their quick pace.

Frodo noticed there was already a tray of food in the room with hardly any food missing from it.

“Is this mine?” Frodo asked, reaching for the loaf of bread before Thorin could answer.

“Yes,” Thorin gave his nephew an amused look as Frodo sleepily spread some strawberry preserves on a piece of the torn-off loaf. “I’ve had what I’ve wanted.”

“What are we doing before going up to the Gamgees?” Frodo asked as he eagerly started in on the rest of the plate.

“I thought we’d go to market and purchase some food to take up to them for lunch,” Thorin explained.

“You’re almost as respectable as any Baggins,” Frodo noted through a mouthful of food, raising his eyebrows.

“I should hope so, since technically I am a part of the Baggins family, you know,” Thorin teased. Frodo snorted wondering how any of his Baggins cousins would react to hearing Thorin proclaim himself as a part of their family. “You wouldn’t say that I’m a Baggins?”

“I don’t think my Aunt Dora would agree,” Frodo explained, truthfully.

Soon they were dressed and in the middle of market which was flourishing at that time of day. After it was made clear that Thorin really wasn’t sure what or how much would be appropriate to bring, Frodo helped him deliberate.

“I believe I should have sent you out without me,” Thorin murmured, noticing the looks he was getting from the hobbits at market as they moved towards Bag-Shot Row. Each of them had a few parcels of food items, including fresh breads and cheeses, in their arms.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Frodo sighed, reassuringly grabbing hold of Thorin’s arm with his free hand. “They gave Aunt Dís the same looks when we came here a couple years ago.”

“They must blame her too for what happened to your uncle,” Thorin explained.

“No one blames any of you for anything.” Frodo rolled his eyes.

“Of course they do, I’m the one who took both of you away from the Shire. The one who keeps hold of you as if you were our prisoner.”

“You’re not my jailer, you’re my family,” Frodo argued.

“It’s reassuring to hear you speak those words,” Thorin gently teased the hobbit.

“What do you mean?” Frodo scoffed, his ears growing a bit hot.

“Recently you’ve made it seem as if you do not wish for me to be your uncle any longer,” Thorin explained.

“I’ve never said that I wish that you were no longer my uncle,” Frodo mumbled, embarrassed. His hold on Thorin’s arm dropped to the dwarf’s hand after Thorin readjusted his hold on the packages from market. Frodo gently squeezed Thorin’s hand and Thorin gave a low pleased hum as they continued on their way up the hill.

When they arrived, they were greeted by Bell, who nearly shrieked in delight to see them.

“Samwise did tell you we were stopping by, did he not?” Thorin looked startled by the hobbit’s response.

“Yes, of course he did. I’m just so very pleased to see you both, at last. We’ve all been so excited since hearing the news that you’d returned for Midsummer’s Eve.”

“I apologize we haven’t visited as often as we’ve promised,” Thorin explained.

“It’s been a rough couple years for the both of you, I’m not placing any blame on you for that.” Bell countered as she motioned for them to come inside. Sam was the next to eagerly greet them quickly followed by his siblings.

“Mister Frodo,” Marigold spoke up. “You’re so pale and thin! You look sick!”

“Marigold, that’s a rude thing to say,” Daisy snapped. “Hush.”

“Well, it’s true,” Marigold muttered in embarrassment.

“It doesn’t help that I live underneath the mountains,” Frodo explained sheepishly. “I don’t get very much sun. But between Aunt Dís and Uncle Thorin and my cousins Fíli and Kíli, they all make sure I get all my meals,” Frodo quickly assured them.

“You’re like our Halfred,” Bell quickly added. “Nothing sticks to his ribs.”

 _“Mother,”_ Halfred blushed from where he sat at the table with his father. Two extra chairs had been moved to the dining table for Frodo and Thorin.

“We also brought some things for lunch,” Thorin changed the subject before they could embarrass the younger hobbits any further.

“Oh, how kind of you!” Bell gratefully accepted the parcels.

“That wasn’t necessary of you, we’re happy to host lunch,” Hamfast assured them.

“We’re happy to,” Thorin explained as they slipped into casual conversation about the years between the last time they had seen each other. The conversation flowed a bit awkwardly as Thorin found it a bit difficult to relate to the hobbits and vice versa.

After lunch Frodo and Sam slipped away and out of the hobbit hole. They turned towards the top of the hill and made their way to the ruins of Bag-End.

“Are you sure you want to come up here?” Sam asked quietly. Frodo said nothing as he stared at the hill. It was much greener than the last time Frodo had seen it, yet the charred tree remained as if it were a grave marking the spot where the home used to be.

There was a small flowerbed that was blooming where Bilbo's old garden used to be and Frodo was surprised to find the beautiful patch of color. He raised his eyebrows as he looked to his friend.

“My old gaffer planted them two years ago. He said he wanted to do something to honor Mister Bilbo’s memory. Other than that we haven’t had the money to do anything else with the place. It feels wrong now anyways, with Mister Bilbo gone,” Sam explained.

An overwhelming grief about losing Bilbo and Bag-End washed over him, missing the small amount of time he had lived there even though he had been very young at the time.

He and Sam sat down on the steps built into the hill, leading up to the nonexistent door just as they had years ago when Frodo had been getting ready to leave with Bilbo and the dwarves. Finally, without Thorin lingering overhead, Frodo was able to openly tell Sam everything that had happened recently with the dragons.

“It seems like a right mess,” Sam muttered after Frodo had finished telling him about visiting the dragon before leaving for the Shire.

“It is,” Frodo sighed. “But, it’s been nice to be back here in the Shire. It almost feels like everything is all right. It’s...it’s so peaceful here, I miss that.” Frodo sighed.

Soon Thorin and Hamfast appeared as they walked up the hill while the sun set. Thorin paused, looking surprised by the flowerbed, as Frodo had.

“Frodo, let’s head back.We’ve got a long day tomorrow,” Thorin sighed, pulling his gaze away from the flowers.

“Wouldn’t want to be tired for the Midsummer’s Eve celebrations,” Hamfast added. Frodo clasped Sam’s hand before bidding him goodbye for the evening and following his uncle back down the hill towards the inn.

**x**

Soon Midsummer’s Day celebrations were underway and hobbits from all around the Shire were crowded beneath the Party Tree. Thorin and Frodo were the reluctant center of attention as relatives from all sides of Frodo’s family flocked to them to see how Frodo had been doing over the past couple years following Bilbo’s death.

Thorin was able to keep to himself most of the night, sitting as far away from the festivities as possible and watching the party. He was mostly occupied remembering his wedding there beneath the tree seven years ago. Everywhere he looked, he expected to see Bilbo smiling radiantly, crowned with his fresh flower crown and coming to fetch Thorin for a dance.

Yet there was no sign of Bilbo and Thorin remained sitting at his table, silently eating and drinking the night away, letting the din of the festival wash over him.

Frodo stayed a little closer to the heart of the festivities, sticking close to Sam. Many of his relatives approached him to ask how he was doing or comment about how sickly he looked. Frodo did his best to assure his hobbit relatives that he was doing well and that he loved his dwarf family dearly. The hobbits only tutted and sighed about what a shame it was that Frodo wouldn’t grow up there in the Shire.

Luckily, some of his younger cousins were a little less overbearing and were extremely curious about Frodo. The first to approach Sam and Frodo was Meriadoc Brandybuck from his mother's side of the family. He’d been one of the cousins he had lived with in Brandy Hall.

“Frodo Baggins! You really _are_ back in the Shire!”

“Hello, Merry,” Frodo greeted.

“Everyone has been talking about you,” Merry quickly told him. “Are you here to stay?”

“Just visiting, I’m afraid,” Frodo explained. “I’ll be leaving again soon after Midsummer’s Day.”

“You know you’re always welcome back at Brandy Hall,” Merry assured him.

“I know,” Frodo sighed. “I do miss the Shire but my place is with the dwarves. They’re my family.”

Trailing Merry closely was another young Took cousin. The younger hobbit clutched at Merry's trousers.

“Speaking of family…” Merry groaned. “Pippin, stop,” Merry snapped at the fussy younger hobbit. “Do I need to take you back to your mother?”

Pippin gave a low whine but still held fast to his cousin's trousers.

“I want to go dance.” Pippin jumped up and down. “Will you come dance with us Frodo?” Pippin asked grabbing Frodo’s hand excitedly.

“I don’t suppose I can turn that offer down, now can I?” Frodo conceded and smiled at his younger cousin.

“Come on then!” Pippin cried, reaching for Frodo’s hand.

“Only if Sam comes with us.” Frodo extended his other hand to his friend. Sam blushed and mumbled about not being able to dance very well. “Nonsense, come on, Sam.” Sam reluctantly took Frodo’s hand and the four hobbits pushed their way into the crowd of dancing hobbits.

They danced until they were hungry and ready to tuck into the newest round of food that was brought out. Pippin had many questions for Frodo once he realized that this was the cousin who had gone off to live with dwarves and Frodo entertained his younger cousin with answering as many as he could.  

Merry and Sam listened with interest, posing their own questions from time to time but mostly allowing Pippin to ask his questions, one after another.

As the sky began to darken and the evening got later, Pippin and Merry were called back to their families and the Gamgees sent Daisy to fetch Sam. Frodo was exhausted and ready to get some good rest for tomorrow’s festivities as well.

He found Thorin perched on the outskirts of the celebration, watching the commotion die down from afar. Frodo smiled sadly at his uncle, easily guessing what had been occupying Thorin’s mind all night.

“Are you missing Uncle Bilbo?” Frodo greeted his uncle, softly.

“When am I not?” Thorin replied, quietly. “Are you getting tired?”

“Only a bit,” Frodo admitted.

“I saw you out there dancing with your cousins and Sam,” Thorin noted and Frodo blushed.

“It’s been nice to see my cousins,” Frodo admitted. “And Sam, of course.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Thorin smiled, finishing off his ale. “Let’s head back to the Green Dragon,” Thorin suggested as he unsteadily stood from the table. Frodo suddenly wondered how much ale Thorin had ended up drinking and went to go hold his uncle steady.

“You’re a good lad,” Thorin chuckled softly.

“You’re drunk,” Frodo laughed.

“No, I’m not. How dare you accuse me of such a thing?” Thorin teased with a hiccup punctuating the end of his question, which made Frodo laugh even more.

“I’m glad we came back to the Shire,” Frodo smiled. Thorin gave a low hum of approval and they continued back to the Green Dragon.

**x**

The next morning the festivities continued for Midsummer’s Day and Frodo participated in the games the hobbit children were playing, alongside his cousins. Thorin was a little more social during the day of festivities, watching Frodo play with a delighted expression and talking to a few of the hobbits who approached him and attempted conversation.

There was more food and music as the day passed and soon the festivities were coming to a close. Frodo said goodbye to the family that had only been staying in Hobbiton for the celebrations and were headed back to their homes further away in Tuckborough and Brandy Hall. Pippin had pleaded with Frodo to come and visit them again next year during Midsummer’s Eve. Frodo told his young cousin he’d do his best to try to come back again as soon as he could to see them.

Thorin and Frodo stayed another several relaxing days in the Shire. Frodo spent most of his remaining time exploring Hobbiton with Sam like they used to do when they were young and he enjoyed discovering what had changed over the years. Thorin kept to himself while Frodo and Sam were out and about Hobbiton. He enjoyed having the time to himself and spent time walking about Hobbiton or perusing their market, thinking about what he could get for Frodo. Thorin searched for anything he could do to get the boy’s mind off of the dragons.

The merchant from a couple years ago recognized him and struck up a conversation with Thorin. As they talked Thorin considered another journal for Frodo. He seemed to like the one Thorin had bought him back then. But Thorin decided it would only make Frodo want to see the dragons down by the training grounds to sketch while the others trained.

He politely declined the offer the vendor made him and continued on his way.

Eventually, Thorin happened across a toy stall. Most of the toys on display were for children much younger than Frodo and Thorin almost moved on before his eye caught on the items set aside to one side of the table. There were several sets of different games that Thorin had never seen before. His fingers glided over a set of handmade cards. There were gorgeous illustrations of the Shire on each one of them and Thorin marveled at the gorgeous scenes painted on each one. He wasn’t sure how to play whatever type of card game they were meant for, but he figured if nothing else they’d be a nice memento of their trip.

After almost another week, the two of them began to pack up to head back to Ered Luin.

“Is this goodbye for another couple years?” Sam asked sadly, standing outside the Green Dragon as Frodo and Thorin were loading the last of their things in the early morning light.

“I hope not,” Frodo gave his friend a sad smile. “We’ll see each other soon, Sam. I promise.”

After one last goodbye Frodo and Thorin were on their way to Ered Luin. Frodo looked fondly upon the Shire as they travelled further out of Hobbiton.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself,” Thorin quietly called to Frodo. The hobbit smiled and nodded.

“I’m glad we were able to come. I’ve missed the Shire,” Frodo admitted. “But I miss home too.”

“As do I,” Thorin sighed.

One evening after finishing their dinner, Thorin retrieved the playing cards he’d bought for Frodo at market. Frodo excitedly took them to look through all the illustrations.

“I’m not sure how you play, but I thought they looked nice,” Thorin explained sheepishly.

“I know how to play, I’ll show you,” Frodo began to sort the cards. “Bilbo had a set of these cards he’d made himself. He’s the one who taught me to play.”

Thorin listened intently to the hobbit explain the card game to him. It took a few rounds before he was able to pick up on the rules of the game but he enjoyed their evening of playing the card game.

Within the next week and a half they’d returned to Ered Luin. The guards at the front gate greeted them. When they arrived home, they found they were the only ones there, though it wasn’t long until Dís arrived after hearing the news of her brother and nephew’s return.

“Did you enjoy the Midsummer’s Day festivities?” Dís chuckled as Frodo came and wrapped his arms around her.

“Of course,” Frodo replied. “It was really nice. I’m glad we went.”

“I’m happy Thorin was able to arrange that trip for you,” Dís sighed as she ran her hand through Frodo’s curls.

“What about my dragon?” Frodo asked quietly, not easily forgetting that the purpose of the trip was to make him forget about the dragon incident nearly a month ago. Dís looked up to Thorin, who furrowed his brows in frustration, before turning her gaze back to her hobbit nephew.

“Already passed,” Dís sighed. “I’m sorry, my boy.” Frodo nodded solemnly and gave a ragged sigh.

“I knew it would be,” Frodo sighed. “I just hoped…”

Dís opened her mouth as if to say something before closing it and shaking her head solemnly.

“I know, my boy. I’m sorry,” Dís pressed a kiss to Frodo’s forehead. “Don’t fret about it too much. Now go get cleaned up and we’ll get started on dinner, all right?”

Frodo nodded and headed upstairs, taking his pack with him. After he disappeared on the stairs, Thorin let out a ragged sigh.

“We’re not even back for more than an hour and he’s already asking about that cursed dragon,” Thorin groaned quietly. Dís looked anxious as her gaze flickered between her brother and the stairs that Frodo had only just ascended.

“I have to talk to you about that,” Dís explained shakily. Thorin frowned, watching his sister carefully.

“How long did the dragon last? Have you already disposed of it?” Thorin pried, when Dís wouldn’t continue. Now, Dís kept her eyes glued to the stairs, assuring herself Frodo was well out of earshot.

“It’s alive,” Dís barely breathed.

 _“What?”_ Thorin hissed, quietly.

“It’s alive and its condition is improving. It’ll never fly again, but it’ll live.” Dís told her brother.

Thorin clenched his jaw shut. “Thank you for…”

“For outright lying to Frodo?” Dís muttered. Thorin nodded. “I don’t like doing that…but I knew you’d rather me…”

“I’m sorry, Dís,” Thorin groaned. “I’ll handle it from here.”

“How are you going to ‘handle it’?” Dís asked, her eyes continuing to flutter towards the stairs. “Are you going to go finish it off yourself?”

“What? _No,_ ” Thorin shook his head. “As much as I hate to say it, Frodo’s right. We’ve never had a Timberjack before and this is a good opportunity to learn more about them now that it’s defenseless and learn how to defend ourselves from them.”

“And how are you going to handle the situation if Frodo finds out?” Dís asked nervously.

“He won’t,” Thorin muttered softly.

“I don’t want to be made out to be a liar, Thorin,” Dís sighed. Thorin reassuringly squeezed his sister’s arm.

“You won’t be,” Thorin assured her. “We’ll figure this out, Dís.”

**x**

Once Frodo had finished bathing he got dressed in some clean clothes and left the washroom. Pausing for a moment, Frodo peered at the door to Thorin’s room. The thoughts about the dragon pressed to the forefront of his mind and suddenly he remembered the journal Bilbo had kept, documenting all kinds of dragons that Bilbo’s mother had seen.

Frodo wished he’d gotten to know her; he wished he could talk to her about the dragons she’d seen and her experiences. All he could do now is read up on her encounters with the dragons. Maybe he could find something in there about the dragons to get Thorin to ease up on him. However, Thorin could also be completely livid with him for being so persistent about the dragons.

Quietly pushing into Thorin’s room, his eyes immediately went to the bookshelf. He spotted the journal on a high shelf just out of his reach and Frodo groaned. Sometimes he hated being a hobbit among dwarves…nothing was ever easy. Frodo pulled at the squashy armchair in the corner to just in front of the shelves. He jumped up onto the cushion and reached up, his fingertips closing on the leather binding.

“That was Bilbo’s,” a quiet voice greeted Frodo. The hobbit jumped in surprise, letting go of the journal and turning to find Thorin standing in the doorway. His stomach sank. Surely, Thorin would be upset, not only for seeking information on dragons, but also touching things in Thorin’s room that had belonged to Bilbo.

“Uncle Thorin, I was just—” Frodo stammered, trying to find an excuse.

“It’s all right.” Thorin came over to the shelf and pulled the journal down. “I’m actually more surprised you weren’t curious about it sooner.” Frodo was silent as Thorin handed the leather bound journal to him. “This is what you wanted wasn’t it?” Thorin asked. Frodo nodded, silently. “Just be gentle with it.” Thorin muttered. “It’s one of the few things I have left of your Uncle Bilbo’s.”

“I know,” Frodo mumbled.

“Or I suppose I should say one of the few things we have left of him,” Thorin offered a small sorrowful smile to Frodo, who returned the gentle look. “I’m sorry, if I ever sound selfish. I sometimes forget that I wasn’t the only one who lost him.”

“It’s okay, Uncle Thorin,” Frodo assured Thorin.

“Oh, you might also want…” Thorin turned back to the shelf. “Just a moment,” Thorin searched the bookshelf. Not finding what he wanted he turned towards the chest at the end of the bed and opened it, digging around until his hand found what he was searching for. He stood straight again presenting the item to Frodo. It was another journal.

“This was Bilbo’s mother’s journal,” Thorin offered. “One of the things he was able to save when your home was destroyed by that dragon all those years ago. This was the original source for everything you see copied in Bilbo’s own journal. Bilbo may have made his own additions to it his after his time here in Ered Luin. Perhaps these will keep you preoccupied for a while, if you promise to stay away from actual living dangerous dragons, hm?”

“Thanks,” Frodo smiled as he gently accepted the second journal. Thorin gently patted Frodo’s small shoulder before leaning down and kissing the hobbit’s forehead.

“Aunt Dís is finishing up dinner downstairs, all right,” Thorin mussed Frodo’s hair. “Let me get cleaned up and I’ll be down in a bit.”

Frodo nodded and quickly left the room, breathing a sigh of relief. He thought for sure Thorin would be upset with him for wanting Bilbo’s journal or thinking it was strange that he was seeking the information in the journal.

He had planned to put the books away in his room and hurry downstairs, but then he stopped and opened the journal Bilbo had written in.

The beautiful handwritten ink brought back memories of watching Bilbo work. At the time, Frodo had never given much thought to what Bilbo had been working on but now he was sorely disappointed he was never more curious back then. A sudden new wave of grief washed over him as he realized how terribly he missed his uncle. His week in the Shire seemed to have amplified his grief even more. Oh, how he wished he could see Bilbo again.

Frodo closed the journal and sighed before heading downstairs for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to get to more Bilbo-centric chapters soon, but there's so much to cover story-wise on Frodo and Thorin's end! 
> 
> Again, my everlasting apologies for the delay, I believe since the last time I updated this I started back to school full time so now I'm spending all my free time writing essays instead of fic sadly and of course work has been crazy too. I am hoping to get at least one more chapter finished before I start NaNoWriMo next month, so fingers crossed for that! I'm also working on writing for the [Bagginshield Alphabet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4908727/chapters/11260555) this month. I'M TOO AMBITIOUS WITH MY WRITING BUT I LOVE IT. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com) and my wonderful patient beta Kate [here.](http://dyllanobrien.tumblr.com)


	14. Forbidden Friendship

Settling back into life once again, Thorin had decided to continue Frodo’s training but refused to let him go near the training field. Frodo spent his spare time poring over the journals Thorin had lent to him. Not only was it fascinating to read about Bilbo’s mother’s adventures and the dragons she had seen, it also felt like he had a small connection with Bilbo once again as his eyes scanned the careful handwriting.

Reading about the terrible things dragons could do, Frodo became quite nervous and he began to see reason as to where Thorin’s concerns were coming from. His encounter with the dragon in the forest or the day they lost Bag-End or the night he lost his parents could have ended much worse. He could see now how incredibly lucky he had been.

However, it still didn’t stop him from being fascinated with the creatures and he was determined to prove to the dwarves one day that dragons were not just killing machines, even if they were dangerous. But for now Frodo could hardly imagine anything like that happening.

One afternoon he spent with Ori reviewing some more advanced khuzdul in the main hall. The main hall was often used by small groups of younger dwarves for lessons, but today the hall was nearly empty; the only ones who occupied it was the two of them.

Once they decided they were finished for the afternoon, they collected their things.

“I don’t have to be home for another couple hours,” Ori said, as he adjusted his journal and pens in his arms. “Want to go down to the training field? I think the dwarves there now are just starting training with dragons today. We can go and sketch,” Ori suggested. Frodo frowned, thinking the offer over. “Unless you don’t want to after...everything that’s happened.”

“It’s only that Uncle Thorin wouldn’t be too happy. He’ll find out if Fíli and Kíli are there.”

“They aren’t,” Ori assured him. “Nori said it would just be Dwalin down there this afternoon with the newer dwarves.”

“Thorin and Dwalin work together. He’ll still find out,” Frodo sighed with defeat.

“We’ll sit far enough away, he won’t spot us,” Ori promised. “Please? I’ve been itching to sketch those dragons for a while now.”

Frodo smiled and gave in.

“Fine,” Frodo agreed as he followed his friend out of the main hall. “But if I get in trouble I’m blaming you.”

“Fair enough!”

They found seats overlooking the training field as the younger dwarves faced a Terrible Terror. Frodo remembered sitting and watching the training sessions with Bilbo and seeing the dwarves go against dragons.

“How has your dragon been doing?” Ori asked as he flipped his journal open to a blank page.

“My dragon?” Frodo blinked in confusion before pulling out his own journal.

“The one you saved from the forest? The reason Thorin doesn’t want you down here to begin with?”

“Oh, Aunt Dís said it died while I was away,” Frodo sighed.

“Are…you sure? I thought I heard it was still alive. Dori said something the other night that he heard from Balin who heard from Óin that it was just beginning to get more movement in its wings.”

“That…that can’t be right.” Frodo frowned. “Are you sure they said it was the dragon I found?”

“I can’t recall any other dragon we have being that badly wounded,” Ori shrugged.

“Well...Aunt Dís said that it was dead. Why would she…?” Frodo trailed off as his gaze drifted towards the paddocks where the dragons were kept. “I wish I could go down there and see for myself,” Frodo shut his journal.

“Maybe Dori heard wrong,” Ori suggested.

“Maybe,” Frodo sighed. They spent a little more time there, but Frodo no longer felt like sketching. His stomach was twisting unpleasantly, trying to determine who was right and how he’d figure that out. Eventually, Frodo finally excused himself to head home. Ori began to pack his own things as well.

“You don’t have to leave because of me,” Frodo quickly told the dwarf.

“Are you sure? I can walk you home,” Ori offered. Frodo politely declined and hurried off in the direction of home. He wanted to run straight home and confront Dís about it, but he knew that would be the least effective way to get his information. He’d have to go down and see it for himself. Frodo knew it was dangerous but he had been down there before and now he was confident he could get back. If only he knew for sure he’d have access to the keys.

Frodo’s thoughts were so distracting that when he arrived home he hardly even noticed Dís was there.

“How did your lesson with Ori go today?” Dís greeted him. “Did you learn anything new?”

“I suppose you could say that,” Frodo mumbled before heading straight for the stairs. Dís frowned.

“Frodo, what’s the matter?” Dís asked, immediately recognizing something was troubling the young hobbit. Frodo bit his lip and debated his choices. Even if he had access to the keys again it was likely he’d be caught. It _would_ be far easier to ask his aunt directly and hope she’d give him the complete truth. “Something’s wrong, out with it,” Dís encouraged him. That, and she wouldn’t rest until she heard what was troubling him so much. Frodo sighed.

“The dragon,” Frodo finally muttered, looking up at his aunt. “My dragon. Is it dead or alive?”

Dís looked startled and stared at the young hobbit silently for a moment. It seemed as if she were trying to formulate the best response to Frodo’s question.

“You said it was dead, but Ori said he had heard differently,” Frodo continued.

“Frodo, I never meant to...I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” Dís finally sighed. “But yes,” she sighed. “The dragon is alive.”

“Why did you tell me otherwise?” Frodo dropped his bag. “Why did you tell me it was dead? Is Ori right? Is the dragon healing?”

Dís pursed her lips and nodded.

“It still doesn’t look good for the dragon’s wings…but it isn’t on Death’s doorstep anymore,” Dís explained. “And I only told you that it was dead because…I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Thorin about it. I was worried he’d…” Dís trailed off. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, Frodo. I truly am.”

Frodo nodded silently. He still wanted to go down and see the dragon himself, but Thorin would never stand for it. At least for now, he knew the dragon was alive and it was slowly healing.

“Now, I want to make it up to you, because I feel terrible about having told you it was dead,” Dís told him softly. Frodo looked up and frowned at her. He wondered if she meant something like cooking his favorite meal or buying him a treat at the market next time they ran errands together.

“I know you’re only going to try to sneak out again to see the dragon for yourself so…” Dís’ voice died in her throat. “Óin has an appointment with the dragon this afternoon after training is finished. If we leave now we can probably catch him.”

Frodo stared at his aunt in shock for a moment. _That_ had not been what he was expecting.

“Wh-what?” Frodo stuttered.

“Do you want to see the dragon, or no?” Dís asked and Frodo eagerly nodded his head. “Grab your cloak before I change my mind,” Dís stood up from where she was sitting. Stumbling after her, Frodo quickly secured his cloak around his shoulders.

“What if Thorin finds out?” Frodo asked as he followed behind Dís.

“If he does, I’ll handle it. I’m tired of him treating you as if you’re a clueless, helpless child. I don’t want you getting hurt, but at this rate you’re bound to hurt yourself if you continue to be kept in the dark like this. This way at least you’ll have my supervision as well as Óin and Dwalin’s.”

Frodo swallowed hard and wasn’t quite sure how to respond or what to say to his aunt, so he kept quiet and followed along towards the training field. When they arrived, it looked as if it had been abandoned for the day already.

“What is _he_ doing here, Dís?” Dwalin’s gruff voice greeted them at the gate. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“We’re here to see the dragon,” Dís answered confidently.

“And does Thorin know the two of you are here?” Dwalin questioned.

“No, and he’s not going to.” Dís raised her eyebrows at her cousin.

“Dís, you know Frodo shouldn’t be here. Thorin will be livid if he finds out.”

“I’m the boy’s aunt, let me decide what he can and cannot do,” Dís huffed.

“Thorin is also the boy’s uncle and he’s made it very clear that Frodo is not allowed down here near the training grounds any longer.” Dwalin folded his arms.

Óin arrived, carrying his bag of medical supplies, and looked bewildered at the dwarves who were there waiting for him.

“Lady Dís,” Óin raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know we’d be expecting you and young master Frodo at this appointment today.”

“We weren’t,” Dwalin growled and Dís gave him a threatening look.

“Hmm, is there anything I can help you with today? Is Master Frodo not feeling well?” Óin asked.

“No, we’d like to see the dragon,” Dís explained a little loudly, as Óin didn’t have his ear trumpet out. The physician shrugged and turned to Dwalin, who looked exasperated but turned to unlock the first door to the paddock for them.

They quietly moved through the hallway, which was lined with the cages the dragons were kept in. Frodo kept a hold on Dís’ arm as they continued through the dragons’ cells and at last they arrived at the Timberjack’s cell. Dwalin slowly unlocked the door and he and Óin slipped inside. Frodo and Dís watched carefully as they approached the dragon. Frodo could feel his heart pounding violently in his chest.

Óin knelt beside where the dragon lay. Finally the dragon shifted and raised its head. It was the most movement Frodo had seen from the dragon since its injury. His breath caught in his throat.

“Óin’s told me it’s regained a lot of movement since its injury. Even sedated, it seems like it’s regained a little bit of its energy. Its wings are less stiff too…they’re starting to heal but we have no idea if it’ll be able to fly,” Dís softly explained.

“Are Óin and Dwalin safe to be in there?” Frodo asked quietly as he watched the dragon shift for Óin to examine its wings.

“It’s really been quiet docile from what I understand,” Dís muttered. “Óin believes it had been sick at the time its wings had been injured, which hindered the healing process a bit. Now that it recognizes that we’re helping it, it’s been…quite tame.”

It didn’t take Óin long to look over the dragon and soon he and Dwalin were leaving the cell.

“I’m not sure when I became a dragon doctor, but it’s still improving, I’m happy to report,” Óin told them, mostly addressing Frodo.

“May I go in and see it?” Frodo questioned hesitantly. Before Dís or Óin could reply Dwalin was quick to answer.

“No,” Dwalin shook his head. “I’m not taking those chances. Thorin’s already going to be upset you brought him here, Dís. If something was to happen and Thorin knew I was present at the time…no. Absolutely not,” Dwalin denied the young hobbit.

“It’s…probably for the best you don’t, Frodo,” Dís agreed hesitantly. Frodo frowned but he was glad his aunt had at least owned up to her lie and allowed him to come and see that the dragon was alive and recovering.

They returned home for the evening, luckily before anyone else had.

“Not a word of this to your uncle, I’ll talk to him,” Dís warned Frodo quietly. “Now go wash up and we’ll get started on dinner.”

**x**

Over the next few months Dís allowed Frodo to go see the dragon several more times. Never did she allow him inside the dragon’s pen, but the dragon had seemed to recognize when Frodo came to visit.

On one of the few instances Dís and Frodo went to go see the dragon, they were by themselves. Frodo quietly talked to the dragon for some time before it perked up and made its way to where Frodo was. Dís anxiously watched and made to move Frodo away from the cell. The sudden movement startled the Timberjack.

“Aunt Dís, don’t,” Frodo quietly instructed his aunt.

“Frodo,” Dís muttered sternly but stayed still and quiet, ready to leap into action if need be.

The Timberjack continued to hesitantly watch the two of them for a while. Frodo and Dís both held their breath. Finally, the dragon started towards Frodo once again. Frodo began to talk softly to the dragon again and eventually the Timberjack was within arms reach of the cell door. Frodo shakily reached out his hand and the Timberjack moved his snout to gently butt up against Frodo’s outstretched hand.

“You remember me, don’t you?” Frodo asked, gently. The dragon purred quietly in response.

_“Mahal’s beard,”_ Dís gasped softly.

“See,” Frodo breathed quietly without breaking eye contact with the dragon. “Their initial instinct isn’t to kill us. They could be our ally as long as we don’t threaten them.”

“Frodo,” Dís sighed. “Just because this one dragon is...it’s sedated as well, you know...you’re not going to domesticate the whole species.”

Frodo remained quiet as he continued to gently stroke the Timberjack’s snout.

“Frodo,” Dís called again. “Time to get home. Your uncle will be back any minute now.” Frodo sighed and carefully retracted his arm. He turned to his aunt and they began to head towards the exit. Dís’ gaze lingered on the dragon, her stomach turning itself into knots at what she’d just witnessed. Frodo was right. Of course, she could never admit that. She could never take the chance to let Frodo any closer to the dragon than she already had.

After that she allowed Frodo a few more trips down to the training fields when time and opportunity arose, but she tried to keep the trips to a minimum. She was happy to allow Frodo these visits but she didn’t want to make them a habit. It was bad enough that Frodo had found out and sooner or later Thorin would figure out that Frodo knew the dragon was alive.

She’d meant to talk to her brother about Frodo’s discovery soon afterwards, but she hadn’t found the right time or the correct words to say to him in order to calmly reassure him about the situation. She remembered Thorin promising her that he’d handle it if Frodo ever found out and she nearly snorted aloud at the thought. In the end, she was glad Frodo had come to her to confront her about the lie. She still didn’t feel right about betraying Frodo’s trust, but at least now she could deal with it properly herself.

**x**

One evening after supper, Frodo bathed quicker than usual and headed downstairs to see if Fíli or Kíli wanted to play a game before bed. He paused on the stairs when he heard his aunt and uncle in deep discussion.

“I don’t like it, Thorin,” Dís remarked. “I don’t think this is…”

“Frodo already thinks the dragon is dead. It’d be best if we let it be killed during one of the final exams. He’ll never have to know,” Thorin decided.

Frodo’s eyes widened and he felt his chest constrict painfully.Thorin was going to have the dragon killed. Before he could hear anymore, Frodo hurried back upstairs to his room, trying desperately to catch his breath and keep his tears from falling. The dragon had been doing so well the past few months and Thorin was ready to sacrifice it to the newest graduating class of dwarves to test their skills on.

Shaking, he quickly decided he had to go down to the training grounds that night. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do but he had to go down to the dragon at least one more time.

He waited like he had months beforehand for everyone to fall asleep before sneaking the keys carefully out of Thorin’s room, securing his cloak around his shoulders, and heading out. He was careful this time not to be seen by anyone and soon he arrived at the training field. Unlocking the door down to the cells, Frodo lit a torch to see by and hurried inside. He moved quickly, not even bothering to concern himself with the other dragons. Tears prickled behind his eyes and he picked up his pace as he got closer to the dragon’s cell.

Without even thinking Frodo quickly opened the door to the Timberjack’s cell and threw himself inside. The dragon perked up from where it was resting to see what had caused the disturbance. As soon as Frodo caught his breath he started to cry.

As he tried to brush his tears away he hardly noticed as the dragon pulled itself up and moved closer to where Frodo was sitting. The Timberjack watched Frodo curiously, trying to determine why he was there in the first place. Frodo finally realized how close the dragon was and he jumped, startled by how close it had come. In a familiar movement, the dragon bowed its head before Frodo and allowed the hobbit to rest his hand on its snout. The gentleness of the dragon only overwhelmed Frodo again as more tears began to fall.

“I’m sorry,” Frodo whispered. “I’m so sorry this has happened.”

Guilt began to wash over Frodo. This dragon had been living the past several months in terrible living conditions, healing from a wound it had gotten trying to defend him. Frodo knew he had to try to repay the kindness the dragon had shown him when it saved him that night on patrol. He knew he had to keep the dragon from this awful fate, just as he knew there was only one way to do so.

After a few more moments of hiccuping sobs, Frodo pulled himself to his feet, giving the dragon another pat on the snout. Frodo pushed the cell door open and stood before the dragon.

“Please,” Frodo begged quietly. “Come with me.”

The dragon eyed Frodo hesitantly but slowly inched forward. It seemed like an eternity before the Timberjack was through the cell door. Frodo gently guided it down the corridor and towards the locked gate that led outside of the mountain. This was the gate they had used to get the dragon into the cells in the first place. All dragons captured were brought in through this gate.

Frodo searched the keyring for the key that would fit the padlock, keeping the gate closed. It was rarely used so there was a bit of rust around the lock as well as the gate. Some of it had been knocked off from its most recent use when the Timberjack had been brought in.

With trembling fingers Frodo finally unlocked the gate. Struggling to push the gate open, Frodo let out a few more exhausted sobs before the dragon carefully made its way to Frodo’s side. Understanding that it was the hobbit’s goal to push the gate open, the dragon lent its strength to pushing the gate open, butting its head against the rusted metal of the gate. With that last effort, the gate was opened wide enough for the dragon to escape.

Frodo looked at the Timberjack expectantly.

“I-I know you can’t fly but you can’t stay here. You’re going to be killed and it’s my fault,” Frodo tried to explain to the dragon. The Timberjack only stood and stared silently at Frodo who was anxiously standing near the gate, motioning for the dragon to leave. “Please,” Frodo begged.

The hobbit began to wander from the gate, hoping to entice the dragon outside. It refused to move and only watched Frodo closely. Frodo began to feel helplessly frustrated. If anyone were to catch him or the dragon, it would be dead for sure. More tears dripped from his eyes and he continued to plead with the dragon.

“You’re in danger if you stay any longer! You’ve protected me before and all it got you was being trapped inside the mountain by these dwarves. I’m trying to protect you now before the others kill you,” Frodo tried to explain. When the dragon still refused to move, Frodo turned and continued to stomp away.

He looked over his shoulder and saw the dragon painfully stretch its wings. Frodo turned around and watched, hoping the dragon would at least try to get away from the mountain by whatever means possible. Once its wings had been stretched out, it tested them out by gliding over the frosty ground. Frodo stumbled and fell backwards as the dragon aimed straight for him.

Reaching Frodo, it landed and awkwardly folded its wings, standing expectantly before Frodo.

“Y-You can...you can fly,” Frodo breathed. “Well not proper flying yet.” Frodo corrected himself. “But it’s a start, that’s for certain. Now, come on, get out of here,” Frodo continued his pleading. “I won’t have you killed because of me. At least you’re on the mend now so you should be fine. Go and find your family, I’m sure they’re worried about you.”

Instead of stretching its wings again it rested on the ground and Frodo sighed. This was the most movement the dragon had done in months. It must have been hard for it to exert so much energy, especially if it was eating the food that had the sedative to keep the dragons under control.

“I know it’s hard, but please!” Frodo continued. He walked further away hoping the dragon would continue to follow him.

For nearly an hour Frodo stood outside in the cold night shouting at the dragon to get as far away as possible. Soon Frodo was exhausted as well as freezing cold, so he sat down against a tree for a moment to catch his breath and try to warm himself up.

The dragon, who had been watching him this entire time, finally unfolded its wings. Frodo stood up, anxiously waiting to see if it would finally understand what Frodo had been telling him and leave. Instead it only came closer to Frodo. The hobbit was too exhausted to react in any kind of fearful way.

Similar to the night Frodo had found the dragon, the Timberjack folded its massive wings around Frodo, as if protecting him.

“What are you doing?” Frodo groaned. Wrapping its tail around the base of this ‘tent,’ it situated itself to keep Frodo sheltered. The dragon settled down for the night as if preparing to sleep. “You need to leave, please…” Frodo hiccuped. Instead the dragon made a purring sound, its chest giving off a low orange glow. Frodo immediately felt the heat; it felt good compared to the biting cold wind he’d been standing in for an hour. The hobbit hesitantly sat down to rest and take in the warmth encapsulated by the dragon’s wings. His eyes grew heavy with sleep and soon Frodo was curled up beneath the dragon’s wings.

The next thing Frodo knew was the cold air on his face and he opened his eyes to see pale light in the sky and the Timberjack unfolding its wings. Frodo could hear voices shouting in the distance and he began to register what had happened. He’d stayed out all night with the dragon and now it was past dawn and surely his family had realized he was not in his bed.

Scrambling to his feet, Frodo blinked blearily, searching his surroundings. No dwarves in sight yet but they were close. The dragon looked expectantly at Frodo, growling apprehensively.

“Don’t look at me like that! This wouldn’t be happening if you’d just left like I told you to!” Frodo hissed at the dragon.  Frodo had no time to think as the dwarves appeared, coming from the mountain.

“They’re here!” one of the dwarves called.

“This is your last chance,” Frodo begged the dragon. “Please! Get out of here!”

The dragon’s gaze bore into Frodo and the hobbit sighed as he turned to face the group of dwarves approaching, axes bared.

_“Frodo!”_

Frodo spotted his aunt and uncle heading the party of dwarves.

“I’m fine!” Frodo called to them, stepping forward to stand between the dwarves and the dragon. “Please, don’t hurt it.”

“Frodo, step away from the dragon, _now,”_ Thorin called, raising his axe. Frodo heard the Timberjack shift and he turned to see the dragon curling into a defensive position.

“Thorin, wait.” Dís reached for her brother, her hand gently trying to get her brother to lower his axe. “This is what I’ve been trying to tell you. The dragon is protective of Frodo and it sees us as a threat.”

Thorin slowly lowered the axe, yet he still gripped the axe tightly in his hands.

“Frodo, what are you doing out here?” Thorin asked desperately, keeping his eyes on the dragon.

“You were going to kill the dragon!” Frodo argued. “It’s healed enough we should let it go, not use it as a final test for training!”

“Nothing was decided yet, Frodo. You know I would have talked to you before anything happened,” Dís assured the hobbit as she set down her own axe and stepped forward.

_“Dís,”_ Thorin hissed. Dís ignored him as she slowly continued to move towards Frodo, leaving her hands visible to the dragon to prove she was not a threat.

“There was no need to come running down here and trying to set the dragon free on your own,” Dís continued. “We could have talked about it.”

“I was afraid,” Frodo explained shakily.

“I know,” Dís sighed as she reached Frodo. “You’ve been afraid for this dragon for a long time.” She still continued to keep an eye on the dragon but it seemed to realize she was not a threat either. “How long have you been out here?” Dís asked softly.

“All night,” Frodo told her, avoiding her gaze.

“Why?” Dís questioned.

“The dragon wouldn’t leave...I tried to get it to go, I know it isn’t healed enough so maybe that’s why it wouldn’t go. I don’t know if it would survive, but it’s better than being locked up and then killed,” Frodo hiccuped as he wiped away stray tears.

“I won’t let the dwarves in training kill the dragon,” Dís promised. “For now it’ll have to go back to its cell if it isn’t ready for being released, will that be all right?” Dís asked, looking between Frodo and the dragon. Frodo turned and looked at the dragon.

“I’m sorry,” Frodo apologized to the dragon. The dragon relaxed its defensive position and gave a low growl in response. Frodo turned back to Dís. “If we want to get the dragon back inside we need these dwarves to leave, or if any want to help, they need to get rid of their weapons.”

“All right,” Dís nodded. “If you believe we can do this without force...I’ll talk to them.”

Most of the dwarves listened and hesitantly started back towards the mountain. Thorin handed his axe to one of the dwarves and turned back to the dragon and his nephew. The dragon relaxed significantly but kept its eyes on Thorin.

“All right, Frodo. What now?” Dís asked softly as the three of them stood before the dragon.

“I—I’m not sure,” Frodo admitted.

“How did you get it out here?” Thorin asked, his own eyes locked suspiciously on the dragon.

“I-I...I opened its cage and I...I opened the gate and led it out here,” Frodo explained.

“Can you lead it back?” Dís asked quietly. Frodo stepped backwards calling for the dragon to follow him.

“Come on,” Frodo called. “We're going back inside now.”

The dragon looked hesitantly between Dís and Thorin before looking back at Frodo.

“It's all right,” Frodo reassured the dragon. “We won't hurt you. If you don't want to leave you'll need to come back inside so we can continue to care for you.” Frodo continued to speak softly to the dragon and even if it couldn't understand a word Frodo was saying, it seemed to visibly relax and slowly began to move towards Frodo.

Dís could see her brother clenching his fists in distress. They watched as the dragon carefully crept towards Frodo but also kept its eyes on the two other dwarves accompanying them. After what seemed like an eternity they were back inside the mountain. The dragon was led back to its hold where it collapsed in exhaustion.

“I’m sorry,” Frodo repeated, hoping the soft apology would convey everything he was apologetic for: for exhausting the dragon after it had only been recovering for a short amount of time, for having to have it locked back up, for everything. Though he knew he’d accomplished at least one thing: he’d saved the dragon from dying at the hands of the dwarves.

“Dís, get him home,” Thorin told his sister through clenched teeth. “I’ll call off the search parties.”

“You had search parties out looking for me?” Frodo asked quietly as Thorin turned off in another direction.

“Of course,” Dís groaned. “After discovering you missing, Thorin enlisted every dwarf he could find to help find you...lest it be too late. I quickly figured out you had heard our conversation last night and went directly to the dragon,” Dís explained. Frodo nodded silently, confirming her hypothesis. “I was surprised however, to find that you were going to try to set it free on your own. That was extremely dangerous, Frodo.” Frodo mumbled something inaudibly and followed his aunt back home.

When they arrived home Frodo collapsed into a chair at the table, resting his head on the surface.

“I think you need a bath and to get some rest,” Dís suggested. When Frodo said nothing Dís came and kneeled beside the chair Frodo was sitting on. She gently rubbed away some dirt that had been smudged on his temple. “Your uncle is very upset, Frodo,” Dís explained quietly. “You should have talked to us first.”

“What good has talking to Thorin ever done?” Frodo snapped back, irritated. Dís sighed.

“I’m trying to be your ally in this,” Dís retorted. “But you are not helping your case when you run off and do stupid, irrational things like this. Thorin would have eventually come around, I’m sure of it. Only you seemed determined to kill yourself at every given opportunity.”

Frodo abruptly stood from his chair and hurried upstairs. Reaching the top of the stairs, Frodo ran into his room and slammed the door behind him. After fuming for a few moments and holding back angry tears he decided his aunt was right, that he needed a bath and then rest. Reluctantly gathering his night clothes, he ran himself a bath, washed, and changed.Then he lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, not feeling the least bit tired.

His body was exhausted from all the exertion but his mind was still swimming with the previous night’s adventure. As his mind continued to race, he hardly noticed when Thorin quietly opened the door to his room and peeked inside. Thorin looked taken aback when saw Frodo was awake.

“What?” Frodo asked quietly.

“I’m just...glad to see that you are unharmed,” Thorin explained.

“I’m fine,” Frodo assured him, harshly.

“I know your aunt has already talked to you about what you did last night,” Thorin continued as he slowly drifted into Frodo’s room. The hobbit sat up in bed.

“Yes, and I don’t need a lecture from you too,” Frodo snapped.

“Frodo,” Thorin barked. “This isn’t some game, you are putting yourself in serious danger,” Thorin growled.

“I’d rather put myself in danger than let you or any other dwarf needlessly kill that dragon,” Frodo argued. Instead of looking angry, Thorin only looked hurt.

“D-Dís has already...we’re not going to kill it...it’s just...Frodo,” Thorin groaned and sighed shakily. “H-How could you?” Thorin asked, almost inaudibly. “After everything they have done to you, after everything they’ve taken from you, how could you go and defend them? After they’ve killed hundreds of our people?”

“And we’ve killed thousands of them! It’s no wonder they attack us,” Frodo bit back a retort. Thorin groaned in frustration.

“I wish Bilbo were here,” Thorin sighed softly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ll talk about this later.” Thorin dismissed the topic and quickly made his escape before the conversation escalated further. Frodo clenched his pillow in his hand before hurling it at the door as Thorin shut it behind him.

It wasn’t till much later that Frodo’s appetite forced him out of his room. The house was quiet and part of Frodo hoped his family was keeping to themselves for the afternoon, but as he made his way softly down the stairs he spotted Kíli and Dís sitting in the living area. Dís looked up.

“Frodo,” Dís sighed. “I was just about to come and get you to see if you wanted anything to eat.”

Frodo silently nodded and crept all the way down the stairs.

“Heard about your escapade with the dragon,” Kíli sat down at the table beside the hobbit, who watched as Dís began to prepare something for a quick luncheon. “That’s amazing. How did you get it to understand you? How did you get it not to attack you?”

“Kíli, don’t encourage him,” Dís hissed softly.

“Where’s Fíli?” Frodo asked his cousin, in attempt to stay away from the conversation his aunt was desperately trying to avoid.

“Down with Uncle Thorin at the forges. I think he’s trying to calm Thorin down,” Kíli admitted. “He sure was in a state this morning. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this angry.”

“He’s not angry,” Dís quickly assured Frodo. “He won’t admit it but he’s scared, more scared than he’s ever been. Life has not been kind to him and he’s lost too many people in his life to not feel that way.”

Frodo stared down at his hands thoughtfully with a quiet sigh. Dís finished preparing them their meal and set plates down in front of her son and nephew to distract them for the time being.

**x**

Over the next several weeks Thorin’s bad temper seemed to lessen. The dragon was hardly mentioned but Dís kept to her word and made sure the dragon was well looked after. There weren’t many more trips down to see the dragon but Frodo received updates from time to time from Gimli, who was able to get whatever information he could from his uncle, Óin.

A few months later, Frodo was out running errands with Dís and they had stopped to chat with one of the merchants before making their final purchases. Frodo was perusing some of the merchant's wares lazily, hoping they’d be heading home soon.

Suddenly the entire mountain seemed to shake and Frodo’s gaze immediately went to Dís, who returned his gaze with an equally terrified one.

“What was that?” Frodo asked quietly, his eyes going wide with panic. Dís could easily see Frodo reliving the day Bilbo was killed and her stomach twisted into knots.

“It felt like an earthquake,” Dís explained. “Nothing more. However, I believe we should find your uncle and see if there’s been any damage.” Dís bid goodbye to the merchant she’d been talking to as he quickly tried to assess any damage done to his shop.

Frodo followed Dís, his hand reaching to hold onto her in a panic.

“Listen.” Dís slowed a little, her eyes continuing to scan the area around them. “If this is another dragon attack, you go and find somewhere safe to hide. No matter what. Do you promise?”

Frodo nodded solemnly and kept close to Dís as they listened for additional noise that could alert them to a dragon's presence.

“For now we're going to find Thorin.” Dís grasped Frodo’s hand. “Keep alert, my boy.”

Frodo anxiously followed Dís through Ered Luin with other dwarves looking just as confused and terrified as they did. As they approached the blacksmith’s shop they saw a shaken dwarf quickly leaving. Thorin emerged and looked relieved yet sickly as he saw his sister and nephew approach. Dwalin followed behind Thorin out of the blacksmith’s shop.

“What’s happened?” Dís asked. “Was that just an earthquake?”

“Yes, but…” Thorin looked pained as he saw them. “There’s been a mine collapse. Sounds like there’s at least fourteen dwarves trapped. Fíli is among them.”

_“What?”_ Dís gasped, her eyes widening in terror.

“He’s been helping out there this week while the shop has been slow,” Thorin explained. “Bofur came by the other day to ask him if he could help out and he was more than happy to oblige,” Thorin explained in a panicked tone.

_“No,”_ Dís cried. “No, _no_ ….are they…?”

“We were heading down there now,” Thorin replied. “Come with me.” Frodo hurried after them, feeling his heart thump violently in his chest. It wasn’t long before they reached the mine entrances.

“Where’s the collapse?” Thorin asked as soon as he recognized one of the miners hurrying about.

“A couple hundred feet below us,” the miner replied quickly.

“My son, _was my son among them?”_ Dís questioned.  

“He hasn’t been accounted for and he was down in that portion of the mine earlier in the day. The logical assumption is, yes, he’s among the ones trapped.”

“They’re trapped...are they all right?”

“We believe they’re still alive, yes. Their specific state is unknown.”

“Thank Mahal,” Dís gasped in relief.  “What’s being done to get them out?” Dís asked impatiently. As the miner began to explain the process to unearth the miners Kíli appeared.

“I came as soon as I could. Where’s Fíli?” Kíli asked looking incredibly pale.

“He’s been trapped in the mine collapse,” Frodo answered quickly. Kíli’s eyes widened in terror.

“Take me down there,” Dís demanded.

“M-Me too,” Kíli quickly chimed in.

“It’s still very unstable down there. We’re working on stabilizing the passage leading to the cave in,” the miner explained. “The mountain goats will be here soon and they’ll be the driving power behind moving rock out of the way in order to attempt a rescue.”

“That’s going to take too long.” Dís shook her head as her breathing began to hiccup.

“What about my dragon?” Frodo suggested. “Could a dragon move the rock faster?” Frodo asked looking between his aunt, his uncle, and the other miner.

“No, Frodo. Your dragon can’t fit down there, it’s wingspan is too large.”

“What about one of the other dragons?” Frodo asked. “If I’m not mistaken a Gronkle consumes rock, does it not? It could probably at least help get the rock out faster that way.”

“That might work,” Dís admitted quietly. “Other than the Timberjack, it is one of the more docile dragons we have down at the training fields.”

_“What in Durin’s name are you thinking?”_ Thorin asked a little hysterically. “Absolutely not!”

“We don’t have the luxury of time, Thorin. I’m not letting my son die down there!” Dís replied equally as frantic.

“He’s not going to die!” Thorin argued. “Unleashing dragons down in the mines: that’s what’s going to kill him and everyone else stuck down there! You heard it’s unstable down there at the best, didn’t you?”

“Work on getting the mines near the collapse as stable as you can,” Dís commanded the miner. “I’m going down to the training field.”

“Dís!” Thorin cried. _“Absolutely not!”_

“I can do this, Thorin!” Dís argued before turning around and not giving Thorin another chance to dispute it. Thorin gave an exasperated growl.

“Dwalin, go with her to make sure she doesn’t kill herself,” Thorin instructed. Dwalin nodded and followed the dwarrowdam out of sight.

“What can I do?” Kíli asked shakily. He was still pale as a sheet but his expression was determined.

“You can take Frodo home,” Thorin muttered. “We’ll handle things here.”

“I won’t sit idly by while my brother is trapped down there! I will go down there myself and start moving rock if need be!” Kíli protested.

“Have none of you heard? The mine is still unstable! No one is going down there until it’s been secured!” the miner cried in distress.

“Kíli, take Frodo home and then return. By that time hopefully the mine will have been stabilized and you can be of more use.”

“I don’t want to be taken home!” Frodo protested. Thorin rested his hands on Frodo’s shoulders.

“Frodo, you’re going to go home and stay safe,” Thorin told him quietly. “There’s not much you can do here, so it’ll be for the best.”

Frodo sighed and nodded, allowing himself to be escorted home by his shaken cousin. Frodo quietly slipped his hand into Kíli’s.

“I’m sure Fíli will be fine,” Frodo tried to assure him. Kíli nodded silently and squeezed Frodo’s hand.

“L-Listen, Frodo,” Kíli muttered shakily. “Just stay at home. No matter what happens. I know it’s tempting to leave and I know you want to help. But for once in your life, please just listen to Thorin. This is not the time to try to be a hero, let us handle it.”

Frodo nodded, trying to fight the tears prickling behind his eyes.

“Kíli,” Frodo muttered. “I know. I won’t, I promise,” Frodo told him quietly. “Just make sure Fíli gets home safely.”

“I will.”

**x**

Dís arrived at the training grounds and immediately headed for the dragons’ cells. She’d stopped near the stables before reaching her target destination to secure a harness usually reserved for the rams in these situations. She knew it wouldn’t be the best fit on a dragon, but if anything the Gronkle would fit it best.

Her hands were shaking as she unlocked the first door into the area and pushed ahead, searching for the cell with the Gronkle in it. She still wasn’t sure how she was going to go about getting the dragon out of the cell and contained but she’d figure it out as she went. If her hobbit nephew could tame a dragon so could she. She’d watched him do it several times before. Quickly, she found the correct cell and anxiously unlocked the door.

“Dís!” Dwalin called as she slipped inside. Dwalin was quick to follow.

“Come on,” Dís went and kneeled by the sleeping dragon. Gently she put a hand on the dragon hoping it would wake. There were soft snores coming from the dragon.

“They must have just eaten,” Dwalin explained. “The Gronkle usually passes out cold for several hours after that.”

“Come on, _please,”_ Dís begged the dragon.

“Dís, this was a foolish decision anyway,” Dwalin sighed. “Come on, let’s get back and see if they’ve stabilized the mine enough for us to help. We’re only wasting time here.” Dís soon realized it would be hopeless. Even if they waited for the dragon to wake up to assist in the mine collapse it might be too late.

Still determined, she got up and motioned for Dwalin to follow her out of the cell. She locked the door behind her but instead of turning for the exit, Dís went in the opposite direction until she found the cell she was looking for. This dragon was still wide awake. Dís tightened her grip on the ram harness before quietly finding the key to unlock the cell.

“A Nadder?” Dwalin barely breathed. “Dís, you’re insane. The thing will rip us to shreds,” Dwalin tightened his grip on his axe.

“Don’t,” Dís hissed. “Lower it. Be ready to assist if necessary.” Dís shrugged the ram harness over her shoulder and Dwalin groaned but did as he was told.

Slowly opening the door to the cell, Dís’ focus zeroed in on the dragon in front of her. It watched her cautiously before letting out a few warning chirps.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Dís told it in a soft voice as she raised her hands to show she was not a threat and she was not armed. The Nadder blinked as it surveyed Dís, keeping its distance. “I’m in desperate need of your help.” Dís continued to talk softly, watching carefully to make sure it didn’t make any sudden movements. “My family is in danger and I think you’re the only one who can help.”

After a few more moments of gentle quiet talking, and displaying the palms of her hands to the Nadder it inched close enough and within arm’s reach. Before reaching for the harness she slowly extended her hand and softly placed it on the dragon’s snout.

“See? We can come to an understanding, can't we?” Dís soothingly told the dragon. Her heartbeat was racing as she kept a close eye on its sharp teeth and spikes. “I'm going to put this on,” Dís explained as she held up the harness. “You're going to help save my son, all right?”

It startled a little as Dís reached to put the harness on.

“Shh, it’s all right,” Dís hushed the dragon. Dís could hear Dwalin getting antsy. Without turning her gaze away from the dragon she addressed Dwalin, “Dwalin, stand down.”

“ _Dís_ , this is insane!” Dwalin hissed. The Nadder was starting to become jittery and Dís could feel the panic rising in her chest. However, the thought of Fíli trapped down in that mine steeled her resolve.

“This _will_ work,” Dís stated firmly. That seemed to quiet both the dragon and Dwalin. She was going to get this dragon to help through sheer force of determination. Slowly she was able to get the harness on the Nadder. It was a poor fit but it worked. She had a hold on the reins from the harness and breathed a quiet sigh, surprised she'd gotten this far without having her arm torn off.

“Dís,” Dwalin breathed quietly so as not to startle the dragon.

“Yes?” Dís replied, never taking her eyes off the dragon.

“I'm coming in,” Dwalin informed her. “The dragon needs to be muzzled.”

Dís groaned softly.

“I hate to do it, but you're right. For the safety of all those down at the mine,” Dís admitted. “Have you ever muzzled this dragon before?”

“Only once or twice,” Dwalin replied. “It's rare we use this dragon at all. It is, after all, one of our most dangerous dragons, Dís.”

“I know that. But it's one of the dragons small enough to fit in the mining tunnels and strong enough to move the rock,” Dís argued softly, for fear of spooking the dragon. It was already highly cautious as Dwalin made his way into the pen. “Now,” Dís returned her attention back to the dragon. “Dwalin isn’t going to hurt you. He’s doing this to protect all of us, all right?”

Dís continued to talk to it while Dwalin maneuvered into position and as soon as he was ready, both he and Dís quickly pulled the muzzle onto the dragon. It jumped at the sudden movement, but between Dís and Dwalin’s strength, they were able to secure it on the dragon. They were silent and still for a moment waiting to make sure the dragon would calm down.

“Dwalin we need to get moving, we don’t have much time,” Dís explained quietly.

“This is madness,” Dwalin huffed. “We’re all going to be dead by the end of the day.”

“Don’t say that,” Dís hissed as the dragon was spooked again.

Using the thick leather reins from the harness both Dís and Dwalin had a tight hold on the dragon and slowly started to escort it from its cell. At first it was reluctant but when it realized they weren’t going to the training field but outwards towards freedom, it seemed a little more enthusiastic to follow their lead.

Most of the dwarves were now at home, making sure their own family was safe or that their homes or businesses hadn’t sustained any damage. Yet there were still a few dwarves out, standing in the roads that led to the mines. They stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, at the dragon that had been released from its cage and was now being led through the streets as if on parade. No one paused to ask questions but instead scurried away.

“I’m honestly...surprised this is working as well as it is,” Dís admitted as she struggled to pull the dragon the correct way.

_“You’re_ surprised?” Dwalin growled. “We haven’t even made it down to the mines, don’t be too optimistic yet.”

After a little more struggle they had finally reached the entrances to the mines where Thorin was impatiently waiting. There were also a few family members and spouses of the other dwarves who had been trapped. Thorin was impatiently pacing back and forth and when he spotted the two of them with the dragon, his face blanched in terror.

_“Mahal’s beard,”_ he croaked. They pulled to a stop and the dragon seemed manageable yet excited. “You said a Gronkle not _a Nadder!”_

“The Nadder was the only one small enough to fit in the tunnels and the only one awake enough to do the job,” Dís argued.

“This wasn't safe to begin with and now you've gone and tripled the amount of danger you're putting us all in!” Thorin hissed.

“Excuse me!” Dís called to a terrified miner, ignoring her brother. “What is the situation down in the mines?”

The dwarf didn’t want to seem to come any closer with the dragon at their side. Instead Thorin answered.

“It’s been mostly stabilized down there. The rams are already in position to pull rock away from the collapse,” Thorin explained quickly, his eyes never leaving the dragon. “They’re doing a perfectly fine job.”

“It won’t be fast enough and they are not strong enough,” Dís countered. “Get the rams out of the mine and make way for the dragon.”

“Dís—” Thorin made to argue.

“Thorin, _now,”_ Dís commanded. Thorin sighed and turned away to find a miner to convey the message. As Thorin left, Kíli appeared at the entrance to the mines.

_“‘Amad!”_ Kíli called. The dragon shifted anxiously at the loud voice. “You did it,” Kíli gasped quietly, suddenly realizing he could easily startle the dragon.

“We haven’t accomplished anything until we can get your brother out of the mine,” Dís told him. “Did you get Frodo home?” Dís asked, her grip tightening on the reins she was holding onto.

“Yes, I made him promise he’ll stay,” Kíli nodded.

“Well hopefully he’ll listen to you,” Dís mumbled. They were silent, concentrating on the dragon standing there at the entrance to the mines. Dís began to absently stroke a spot right behind the Nadder’s jaw in attempts to soothe it, so it wouldn’t become excited and uncontrollable when the time came to take it down into the mines.

After what seemed like hours the rams finally emerged from the entrance to the mines that had been collapsed. Both the dragon and the rams seemed a little spooked by each other.

“All right, it’s now or never, Dís,” Dwalin said, looking to the dwarrowdam.

“Time to go,” Dís told the dragon, gently leading the dragon by the reins on the harness. At first the Nadder didn’t seem to want to move. “Come on.” She tugged. The dragon stood firm in its place.

“We’ve gotten it all the way down here and now it’s going to refuse to go into the mines?” Dwalin groaned exasperatedly.

“No, no, no, come on,” Dís continued to pull.

“It needs motivation,” Kíli pondered aloud.

“We can’t use any kind of violence to spur it forward if we want it to act calmly in the mines,” Dís argued.

“Hold on, I’ll be right back.” Kíli took off away from the mines.

“Augh, Kíli!” Dís called.

They began clearing as many dwarves away as they could to encourage the dragon forward without it being startled by anyone. That helped with some progress but they were hardly any closer to getting it to go into the mines.

“We’re losing time, Dís!” Thorin called. “This whole time we could have had the rams down there working on pulling rock away from the collapse site!” Dís could feel the anger and frustration bubbling up inside of her. She was so desperate and she was so sure that this was the only way to save Fíli as soon as possible. Before she could make another decision about what to do next, Kíli came hurrying back to the mines with his hands full. He ran over to where the dragon was standing before holding up what he had in his hands.

Fish.

“Here!” Kíli called, waving a dead fish above his head.

“Kíli!” Dís gasped, partly in amazement and partly in distress. It was a good plan, Dís realized as the dragon began to pull against the reins catching a smell of the fish in Kíli’s hand. However, it was dangerous. Leading the dragon by waving fresh food in front its face was probably not the safest idea, even if the dragon was muzzled.

The Nadder began to pull both Dwalin and Dís along as it made for the fish.

“Kíli!” Dís shouted again.

“Come on, then!” Kíli called. “This way!” Kíli waved his arm. “Actually which way are we going?” Kíli looked to his uncle. Thorin hesitated before quickly making his way to Kíli’s side.

“Give me the fish,” Thorin commanded. “I’ll lead it down there.”

“Uncle, are you sure?” Kíli asked.

“Give it to me,” Thorin commanded. Kíli handed the fish over to his uncle and followed beside the procession making its way down to the mines, his hand on the hilt of his sword at all times. They followed the chilled, damp hallways of the mine. As well as the walls being strengthened and reinforced, the corridors were well lit to see where all possible damage could have been.

They arrived at the collapse to find three dwarves working to stabilize the rubble and clear away what they could. When they spotted the small party they all jumped at the sight of the dragon which was fighting to get to the fish in Thorin’s hands.

“We’ve gotten a small airway through to where they’re at. It allows for communication as well,” one of the dwarves explained nervously.

“M-May I?” Dís asked as she handed the part of the rein she was holding to one of the other dwarves, who took it very reluctantly. Hurrying to where the dwarf was directing her she found the tube that had been driven through the rocks.

“Fíli? Fíli are you there?”Dís called through the pipe.

“‘Amad?” a quiet and distant voice called.

“Oh, thank Mahal,” Dís breathed. “Are you all right?”

“I’m...I’m probably fine,” Fíli answered back, faintly.

“Are you hurt?” Dís asked.

“Only a little, honestly ‘Amad. I’m all right,” Fíli assured her.

“Fíli!” Kíli called as he sidled up next to his mother.

“Kíli,” Fíli replied with a sigh of relief.

“Fíli, we brought a dragon down to the mines to move the rock out of the way. We’re getting you out of there!” Kíli explained quickly.

“You _what?”_ Fíli asked.

“This is the quickest way,” Dís explained.

“A dragon?” Fíli asked. “I thought the rams were down here. Is Frodo with you?”

“No, he’s at home. Hopefully,” Dís sighed. “He’s not here, at least.”

“Then how did you get the dragon down here?” Fíli countered.

“I’ve learned a thing or two from your cousin and his ways with the dragons,” Dís explained smugly. “Now make sure you and your crew are as far away from the cave-in as possible. I don’t want you being caught in another cave-in if this doesn’t work.”

“All right, give us a few moments,” Fíli agreed, raggedly.

“Fíli!” Dís called. “ _Amralizu madtithbirzulê_.”

“ _Amralizi_ ,” Fíli replied softly.

“We’re getting you out of there so just hold on,” Dís exclaimed once more before moving away from the airway pipe.

As they patiently waited with baited breath to give the miners enough time to get a safe distance from the cave-in, they began to secure the harness to the larger boulders.

“Dís, this is absurd,” Thorin muttered.

“You’ve stated that already, dear brother,” Dís nodded.

It was difficult trying to secure the chain and rigging to the rock with the dragon moving as much as it was. At least the rams were less antsy.

“Keep it still!” Dís called.

“‘Amad, the dragon wants the fish,” Kíli explained. It was desperately fighting against the harness.

“You can’t unmuzzle it,” Dwalin barked. “Augh, we’re never going to get this secure. Dís,” Dwalin nodded over his shoulder. The two of them took the reins from the hands of the terrified miners and put all their strength into keeping the dragon still. The frightened miners went to help Thorin and the other dwarves with the rigging to pull the rock away.

When at long last the dragon was secured to one of the boulders they cleared out of the way and gave the go ahead for Dís and Dwalin to lighten their slack.

“Go, Kíli,” Dís panted as she loosened her grip on the harness. Kíli waved the fish around a little more and began to back up. The Nadder, still determined to reach the fish, struggled against its harness. At first it seemed like even the Nadder wasn’t even able to budge the rock. However, it realized it was fastened to the rock which was keeping it from going anywhere. Dís could see it begin to spread its wings and she panicked.

“Dwalin! Out of the way now!” Dís called as she let go of the harness altogether and hurled herself forward and out of the reach of the dragon’s wings. Scrambling to get her footing back, she stood beside her son and saw Dwalin was doing the same. “Get ready to move.”

The Nadder extended its wings. The mine shaft was still too small for the Nadder but even the few flaps of its wings were powerful enough to start to move the rock. Loosening up, the Nadder pulled closer to where Kíli held the fish and both Dís and Dwalin jumped into action to grab ahold of the harness so the dragon wouldn’t be able to spring forward when the rock was dislodged.

Behind her, Dís could hear the sound of the rock shifting and moving. The sound could mean horrible things like another collapse, but it could also signify the clearing of the rock and therefore the success of their plan.

Dís turned her head to see if the rock had been cleared. As she turned, she felt a sharp burning pain tear across her face; a scream was the last thing she remembered before blacking out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)))))))))
> 
> Sorry as the updates continue to be slow, right now I'm smack in the middle of NaNoWriMo but hopefully I'll be able to get another chapter out before the holidays are upon us. Thanks for stickin through!
> 
> **Translations:**  
>  _Amralizu madtithbirzulê_ \- I love you, little golden heart.  
>  _Amralizi_ \- I love you.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com) and my terrific beta Kate [here.](http://dyllanobrien.tumblr.com)


	15. The Town on the Lake

Life in Erebor had become easier for Bilbo as he began to learn about the dragons. He had actually begun to enjoy his time among the dragons. They were curious excitable creatures with unique personalities. Bilbo observed them as they went along their daily business and noted their individual quirks. 

They had individual family groups sometimes including dragons of different species. They made him think of his own family at home and he was starting to find that these dragons were becoming his family too. Minty had seemingly adopted him into her own family. It was a group of about four other dragons; two were Hobblegrunts like herself and the other two were different species: a Raincutter and a Changewing. Bilbo enjoyed getting to know these dragons through Minty and her interactions with them. At first they were rather hesitant to allow him near their small nest, but now Bilbo made frequent visits. 

During spring that year–or rather what Bilbo assumed was spring–he discovered that Minty had been caring for an egg of her own. The Changewing that was part of Minty’s group protected Minty and the egg fiercely, the dragon keeping a careful eye on Bilbo. Minty would chirp and scold the Changewing until it would finally back off. Bilbo had discovered that this Changewing was also female and she and Minty spent most of their time together. He had decided on the name ‘Myrtle’ for the Changewing. 

Finally, one day when Bilbo visited the family group, he’d discovered that the egg had hatched. Both Minty and Myrtle allowed Bilbo close enough to observe the small Hobblegrunt hatchling. It was so incredibly small, perhaps the size of a Terrible Terror or smaller. 

For the first few weeks the hatchling didn’t leave her mother’s side as she waddled around uncertainly, stretching her undeveloped wings in experimentation. 

The hatchling began to grow brave enough that she would slowly start venturing towards Bilbo and would excitedly give a few high pitched squeaks. Bilbo soon gave the hatchling a name like her mother and her mother’s closest companion and called her Daisy. 

Daisy soon grew to love Bilbo and she would squawk happily whenever Bilbo would give her attention. Bilbo was shocked when both Minty and Daisy showed up in his quarters one day and Daisy excitedly swooped around Bilbo’s room showing off that she now had a grasp on flying. 

“Look at you!” Bilbo laughed, excitedly watching the young dragon fly around his room. “When did she start this?” Bilbo smiled as Minty settled at the doorway. Daisy excitedly landed on Bilbo’s shoulder, which made Bilbo stumble. Daisy was now the size of a large tomcat and was a good deal heavier as well. “Oof! Careful, Daisy!” Bilbo called as the dragon launched herself off of Bilbo. Minty gave a disapproving growl at her young hatchling and Daisy gave a soft whimper. 

“Have you come to offer me a ride to go and visit your family?” Bilbo asked. Minty perked up and looked excited. “All right, but I also think I’ll have you take me out later this afternoon.” Bilbo collected his satchel, wrapped his cloak around him and quickly found his place atop Minty’s back. He was getting used to flying without his blanket saddle and cloth reins. 

Bilbo held on and enjoyed watching Daisy excitedly try to keep up with them as they flew through the mountain. They reached their little nest and the others greeted Bilbo enthusiastically. 

He spent the morning with the dragons and made up a fire to cook up a small breakfast from one of the small rabbits they had saved for him. Once he had finished, he looked to Minty.

“All right, come on, Minty. I need out of this mountain,” Bilbo sighed as he adjusted his satchel on his shoulder. She chirped at him uneasily. “It’ll be fine,” Bilbo assured her. “When’s the last time I got out of here properly? Felt the sun on my face, hm?” Bilbo asked. “Too long, yes.” 

Bilbo had a little more than a simple quick trip out of the mountain to enjoy the fresh air planned. He’d finally decided he would return to the town on the lake. Bilbo was desperate to purchase some necessities he’d been missing for quite some time and he’d finally gathered the courage to do it. 

He figured if he just had the dragon escort him to the front gate he’d leave her there so there would be nothing out of place for Smaug to question. It also seemed as if Smaug wasn’t constantly keeping track of where he was at all times. Of course he still couldn’t be absolutely sure of the extent of the Alpha’s powers but he figured if he was quick about it and not gone more than a day or two, Smaug would be none the wiser. 

Minty gave another unsure noise but stretched her wings out as Bilbo got comfortable upon her back. They took off and raced through the corridors and massive hallways, Bilbo feeling exhilarated as the air whipped past his face. Finally they escaped the depths of the mountain and Bilbo took a deep breath of fresh air. It wasn’t as sunny as he’d been hoping, but it was still a relief to get out of the dark mountain. Minty landed and Bilbo slid off and found his footing before he looked out to the town on the lake. He adjusted his belt and felt for the small pouch of gold inside his coat. 

“All right,” Bilbo decided. “You don’t have to wait out here for me. I may be gone for a little while and I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with Smaug for assisting me. He’s already not going to be very happy.” 

Minty gave a concerned groan, gently butting her snout against Bilbo’s shoulder. 

“I can find my way back,” Bilbo assured her gently stroking Minty’s snout. “Don’t worry about me, all right? Though if you don’t hear from me by tomorrow evening it’s because I’m wandering the mountain and haven’t quite figured my way from the front gate to my chambers. You may need to come find me at that point.”

Minty gave him one last uncertain headbutt against his shoulder. Bilbo bid her goodbye one last time before turning away and heading towards the lake. As he began walking he wondered if he should have let Minty drop him off a little closer to the lake. Bilbo decided this was probably for the best, it was nice to spend some time outside and enjoying his time out of the mountain. 

As he got closer to the lake in the late afternoon, Bilbo decided to slip the ring on to ensure that he’d get into the town without a problem. He seemed to remember there were guard posts at the north pier leading into the town and he’d rather go unnoticed. Once he was past the guard post, Bilbo found a secluded corner to sit and rest after his lengthy hike down to the town. After he ensured no one was around to see him, he slipped the ring off his finger and breathed for a moment. He hated the way that it felt while he wore it. Bilbo sighed and decided he’d leave it off. He didn’t want to risk wearing it for too long on the off chance Smaug realized Bilbo was no longer in the mountain. After all this time Bilbo still wasn’t really sure how the ring worked or if Bilbo’s use of the ring’s location could be sensed by Smaug. 

Finally Bilbo got up and took a deep breath before wandering into more populated areas of the town. A few people gave him odd looks but for the most part people kept to their own business disregarding Bilbo altogether. 

“Young man!” a voice called from behind Bilbo, but he disregarded the call, assuming it was someone calling out to a child who’d wandered too far from his parent’s side. “Young man, excuse me! Where are your parents?!” Bilbo looked around trying to identify the child who was being called to when he finally locked gazes with a man who was looking straight at him. The man was on a barge cruising at a slow speed down one of the main waterways Bilbo was walking down. 

“Me?” Bilbo asked with an amused look on his face. 

“Oh,” the man frowned. “You’re not a child at all, are you?” The bargeman pulled to a halt as Bilbo addressed him. 

“I most certainly am not,” Bilbo chuckled. “I’m nearly fifty four years old, thank you very much. Or at least I think that’s how old I am. I can’t keep track these days.” 

“You aren’t human,” the bargeman noted. “You’re not a dwarf, are you?”

“No. No beard, you see,” Bilbo told him. “I’m a Hobbit of the Shire.” The bargman quirked an eyebrow at him. 

“What is a halfling of the Shire doing here in Esgaroth?” the bargeman questioned. 

“Quite a long story,” Bilbo sighed. 

“Well, I can see you are very far from home. I am heading home for the evening myself, perhaps you’d like to join my family and I for dinner?” the bargeman offered. “You look like you could use a hot meal.” 

Bilbo could hardly hide his excitement. 

“I mean, I'd hate to impose,” Bilbo politely told the bargeman.

“We'd be happy to host you.”

“Are you sure?” Bilbo raised his eyebrows with a grin. The bargeman laughed at Bilbo’s obvious enthusiasm and nodded. “I’d be much obliged.” 

The bargeman motioned for Bilbo to join him on the barge which held several empty barrels and Bilbo agreed as he cautiously boarded the ship.

“My name is Bard by the way,” the man said. “I just have to drop off my cargo and then I’m headed home.”

“Bilbo Baggins, at your service,” Bilbo introduced himself. Bilbo watched the town curiously as they made their way down the waterway and turned once or twice before Bard docked and spoke with another man at the pier and the barrels were unloaded. 

“Oh, I nearly forgot, I’m going to stop and get a few items at the market before heading home if that’s all right with you,” Bard asked as he led Bilbo along the walkway into the bustling center of the town. 

“Oh, terrific,” Bilbo smiled. “I’d been meaning to head that way myself.” 

The two of them conversed happily on their way to the market, Bilbo asking a few questions about the town there on the lake. When they arrived at the busy market, Bilbo slipped away from Bard to peruse the stalls he’d meant to visit. First was the apothecary to stock up on a few healing herbs just in case and then a few seasoning herbs for his food. He knew the herbs wouldn’t last long, but he hoped maybe he could start to slip down to the markets more often. Bilbo also wanted to give the stall owner as much business as he could after the burgling he had done years earlier. The shop owner looked baffled by the odd gold piece Bilbo gave him. 

“Surely your purchase doesn’t quite add up to cost this much,” the shop owner told him honestly. 

“Take it,” Bilbo assured the merchant. “It’s fine.” The merchant didn’t argue and although he looked unsure and bewildered, he thanked Bilbo profusely for his business. 

Next on Bilbo’s list were some more soaps and lastly was to purchase a bound journal or two if he could along with plenty of ink and feather quills and charcoals. He was determined to start documenting his time with the dragons and map out Erebor even if he was beginning to get a good mental idea of how the main areas were laid out. Before finding Bard, he purchased some fresh bread and some other food items to offer to the bargeman’s family since Bard had been so kind as to invite him to dinner. It was exhilarating to Bilbo; he hadn’t had dinner with another being in quite some time. 

Eventually, Bard found Bilbo struggling to hold all of his purchases even though he had brought his satchel with him. Bard chuckled at the sight before quickly offering to help the hobbit and they quickly headed towards the bargeman’s home. 

“Hello,” Bard greeted his young wife as they entered the small home. Bilbo hung back a little anxiously and waited for the young woman to notice him. The bargeman’s wife had beautiful wavy dark blonde hair that was pulled back into a braid. She was cooking in a small kitchen with a sling over her shoulder that came across her chest and down to her waist. 

“There you are,” she gave a relieved smile. Her open expression faltered a bit when he gaze landed on Bilbo. “Who’s this?” 

“Bilbo Baggins. He’s a halfling from the Shire. Master Baggins, this is my wife, Ingrid.” Bard introduced them. She perked up. 

“All the way from the Shire,” she raised her eyebrows. 

“I thought he looked like he could use a hot meal,” Bard explained sheepishly. “Would you like me to take her from you?” he asked softly. 

“Thank you,” Ingrid stepped away from where she was working and pulled something from the sling that draped across her. Bilbo couldn’t help but smile broadly when he saw Bard holding a baby who must have been at least six months old. 

“Hello, Sigrid,” Bard smiled as the baby babbled softly at him. “Did you miss me?” The baby’s babble got louder in response to Bard’s voice, giggling softly as she reached her tiny fingers towards Bard’s face. Tucking his daughter into one arm, he brought up a hand and allowed his daughter to wrap her hand around one of his fingers. 

“Sigrid, perhaps you’d like to meet our guest?” Bard suggested softly before looking over at Bilbo. 

“I’d love to, but perhaps I should wash up a little first?” Bilbo suggested. 

“There’s a washroom downstairs if you need to refresh yourself,” Bard nodded to the stairs in the home. 

“Thank you,” Bilbo nodded. He made his way downstairs and found the washroom Bard had been talking about. Bilbo chuckled thinking of how his conditions up at the mountain were almost better than the crude washroom they had. There was a pitcher and wash basin inside the small washroom which Bilbo gladly used. He was a little embarrassed; it had been quite some time since he had properly washed and he thought about the soaps in his bag, eager to be able to use them..

Somewhat presentable and clean, Bilbo returned upstairs to find that the table had already been set and the baby was now back in her sling which was now being worn by her father. Bilbo smiled at the young family before hesitantly waiting for Bard to offer him a seat at the table. Ingrid brought the small pot of soup over to the table to serve up into the bowls. Bard had already sliced the loaf of bread Bilbo had bought for their meal and divided it up among them. 

Bilbo soon found out that the soup was fish soup and while it wasn’t the best meal he’d ever tasted, he was immensely appreciative of eating something that hadn’t come from a dragon’s maw. Of course, he was also grateful for the company at dinner. The dragons had since warmed up to him and kept him company from time to time but nothing could compare to actual person-to-person interaction. 

Bard sat Sigrid up in his lap and fed her bits of food and little sips of the soup when it was cool enough. 

As they ate, Bilbo talked a little about the Shire to satisfy their curiosity. Neither of them had ever met a hobbit before and it was a comforting feeling to talk about the rolling green hills of the Shire. Even after years of living in mountains–Erebor and the Blue Mountains–nothing could ever beat the view on a beautiful spring afternoon after rain in the Shire. It was beginning to get harder and harder to recall the exact sight, smell or feeling it gave him, but talking about it helped refresh those memories.

In return for information on the Shire, Bilbo took the opportunity to learn about life on the lake so near the mountain that was inhabited by thousands of dragons. 

“If I’m not mistaken, I believe I’ve seen dragons in the areas nearby,” Bilbo started cautiously. “Are there many dragons nearby?” 

“The mountain,” Bard started quietly. “Just north of here, there’s a nest of dragons.” Bard nodded. 

“That’s...certainly very close,” Bilbo remarked. “Do they ever give you much trouble? I don’t imagine it would be safe to settle so near to a dragon nest.” 

“It wasn’t that way when our ancestors settled here,” Ingrid insisted. “The mountain used to to be one of the greatest Dwarven kingdoms in Middle-Earth. I was told tales of it when I was a girl. It sounded like it was magnificent.” 

“Aye,” Bard nodded. “It fell over a century ago when the dragon came, bringing an entire nest full of dragons with it. Luckily, we only have ten to twenty dragon-related fatalities a year.” 

Bilbo swallowed hard. The idea that ten to twenty people died every year because of the dragons was horrific. He wondered if there was any way to convey to the dragons to stay away from the people there on the lake. He was sure the dragons didn’t purposefully go after these people, did they? 

“I would probably move on as soon as you’re able,” Bard suggested. “Return to your beautiful green hills in the Shire.” 

Bilbo remained silent, wishing it was that easy. After dinner Bard volunteered to clean up and handed Sigrid back to his wife. 

“Would you like to hold her now?” Ingrid asked softly as Sigrid began to doze peacefully in her mother’s arms. 

“Oh, I don’t know if I...is it all right?” Bilbo babbled nervously. 

“Of course,” Ingrid smiled warmly as she adjusted Sigrid’s clothing before gently handing her over to Bilbo. Bilbo’s eyes lit up as he accepted the baby. She was already much larger than any hobbit babe he’d held before, but nonetheless she was gorgeous. Sigrid opened her eyes and looked up curiously at the stranger who was holding her. She made no distressed noises, only tired coos as her dark blue eyes shone up at him. 

“My goodness,” Bilbo breathed. “You’re beautiful.” 

“Do you have a family Master Baggins?” Ingrid asked softly. 

“Yes, well I had one,” Bilbo admitted as he gently offered one of his fingers for her to grasp. As her small fingers closed around his, she made a satisfied sound and her eyes once again began to droop. “I had adopted my young cousin when he was orphaned in a dragon attack and then I ended up marrying a dwarf and moving to live with his family in the Blue Mountains…” Bilbo explained softly. “It’s been...goodness,” Bilbo continued, “at least five years now since I last saw them,” he admitted with a soft sigh. “I...doubt I’ll ever see them again. We weren’t the most conventional family, but I loved them. So very much,” Bilbo chuckled softly to himself, a few tears welling up in his eyes as he looked down at the young baby girl. 

“If...I may ask, why  _ can’t _ you go home to them?” Ingrid asked. “Your family, I mean.” 

“That’s a long...unbelieveable story, if I’m being honest with you. You really wouldn’t believe a word of it.” Bilbo shrugged. 

“Try us,” Ingrid prompted Bilbo.

“Ingrid, he doesn't have to share his story with us if he doesn't want to,” Bard quickly told her. 

“Sorry, it’s just…” Bilbo muttered, looking down at the young girl in his arms. “Thank you. I feel as if I was going to lose my mind being locked up in that mountain all those years. It’s just been nice to talk to other actual people.” 

“Hold on, you...you said...the mountain?” Bard asked looking confused. “I thought you were traveling through. The _mountain_ is where you’ve been living? Why the questions about the dragons?” 

Bilbo pursed his lips, realizing what he’d let slip. So much for trying to be discreet. 

“I don’t particularly live there by choice,” Bilbo explained. “It just...happened. I’ve actually become part of their nest and I’m afraid they won’t let me leave now. At least not permanently. I was only curious to know about the dragons presence in town, if I’m being honest.” 

“Dragons are friendly with hobbits then?” Bard asked with a frown. 

“Something...like that,” Bilbo explained. The young couple looked at each other for a moment in confusion. 

Suddenly there was a low rumble and the house shook a little bit. 

“What was that?” Ingrid asked her husband. Sigrid woke and began to whimper and then cry in Bilbo’s arms. Bilbo looked startled as his gaze snapped down to the babe in his arms. Quickly, he gave the child back to her mother and stood up as another low roar echoed in the distance. 

“This was a mistake,” Bilbo breathed. “I’m so sorry.” He collected his things and hurried towards the door, leaving the family behind him. Hurrying down the steps away from the house, he heard the distant cries of panic. Tears burned at his eyes, guilt overwhelmingly consumed him knowing what was coming. Smaug had realized Bilbo was no longer in the mountain and could probably sense that he was here in the town of Men. 

In a brief glance Bilbo watched as the large dark figure swooped down overhead. Scrambling towards a tower that stood above the town, Bilbo quickly scaled it and spotted the dragon. He had to get Smaug’s attention before the dragon did any damage or killed anyone in his search for him.

“ _ Hobbit! _ _ ”  _ The dragon’s loud booming voice rang throughout the town. _ “ _ _ Ring-Bearer! _ ” Smaug snarled. “I know you’re down there,” he growled. 

“Smaug!” Bilbo cried. “I’m here!” Smaug’s sight zeroed in on him and Bilbo swallowed thickly. Smaug had perched on the edge of the town, a few fires starting to rise up beside him. The dragon roared loudly and Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He could very clearly hear the terrified sounds of the people in the town. His mind was racing, trying to determine how he could handle the situation without allowing any people to get hurt. 

“ _ What _ are you doing down here in this filthy town?” Smaug roared as he began to crush more buildings beneath his claws. 

“Stop!” Bilbo cried. “Right there. Do not move any further. You can’t hurt anyone else in the town!” Bilbo shouted. Smaug narrowed his eyes, his gaze boring into Bilbo, though he seemed frozen in place. “Okay,” Bilbo breathed. His eyes scanned the destruction below Smaug and swallowed hard. “Now, stay where you are! I’m coming to you!” Bilbo declared, eyeing the dragon and waiting for a response. Smaug merely opened his maw and unleashed a wall of fire in frustration, but to Bilbo’s surprise most of the fire was well above the rooftops and not likely to have caused further harm. Bilbo nearly tripped over himself as he hurled himself back down the tower. Hurrying as quickly as he could down the piers and wharfs that made up the town, he found where Smaug was perched, destroyed buildings at his feet. Bilbo slowly blinked, taking in the damage, his gaze trying to pinpoint any bodies. 

_ “ _ _ Ring-bearer! _ _ ” _ Smaug growled as he spotted Bilbo. 

“Save the lecture for when we’re back at the mountain,” Bilbo shouted at the dragon. “Let’s get out of here without you killing more people than you need to,” Bilbo retorted. His voice was steady but his heart was beating sporadically and his stomach was in his throat. Luckily, he was able to hold the tears back. Smaug whipped his tail over the pier in front of Bilbo, smashing the dock to pieces. “Watch it!” Bilbo shouted. 

“Get on,” Smaug commanded. Bilbo growled as he hesitantly climbed Smaug’s tail. The scales were wet and slippery and he had a hard time gaining traction and climbing atop the dragon. Being careful of where he stepped for fear of impaling his feet on one of Smaug’s spikes, Bilbo reached the top of the dragon’s back. After a little more climbing Bilbo found a smooth spot at the base of Smaug’s neck between the dragon’s wings where he could find a good hold on one of the spikes. “Are you settled?” the dragon snapped. 

“Yes,” Bilbo called back and the dragon stretched its wings as it lifted off from the damaged town. Clinging to the massive dragon for dear life brought back memories of being brought to the mountain. He felt tears begin to leak from his eyes and he was much too afraid to brush them away in case he lost his hold on the dragon.

Luckily, this was a much shorter flight than his initial one on Smaug’s back all those years ago.

“Stop!” Bilbo cried as they entered the mountain.

As Smaug flew into the mountain he landed and Bilbo was quick to scramble off the back of the dragon. As Bilbo finally found his footing, the dragon lashed out in irritation. 

“What were you doing?” Smaug snapped. Bilbo didn’t reply as he scrambled up the battlements to look out towards the lake.

There were still small faint smoke plumes rising into the sky but the town seemed for the most part whole. He prayed that there were little to no casualties. It was all his fault. His greedy and selfish need to leave the mountain and visit the town had put so many people in danger. He swallowed his tears and clenched his fists thinking of Bard and his young family. When his mind lingered on Sigrid and her tiny fingers closing around his own he let out a whimper. 

“Inside.  _ Now, _ Ring-Bearer,” Smaug hissed. “You don’t even know what you’ve done. I should have killed everyone in that town.  _ I should _ kill everyone in that town for what happened tonight.”

“No!” Bilbo cried. “You can’t! Please, you can’t,” Bilbo begged him. Even though he was standing on the tall gate Smaug still had to look down. 

“You can’t have grown attached to that filth so quickly,” Smaug growled. 

“They’re innocent people! It was my my mistake, punish me. Not them,” Bilbo begged. 

“You don’t know how much I would like to,” Smaug rumbled. “Escort him inside,” Smaug ordered one of the dragons flying within the atrium. A Monstrous Nightmare carefully landed on the ramparts and bowed before Bilbo to allow him on its back. 

“I’m...I’ve never ridden on any dragon other than Minty. I want her,” Bilbo pleaded. Smaug roared in irritation. 

“Get on the back of that dragon,” Smaug hissed. “You do not want me to be the one to personally escort you, but I will if I have to.” 

Bilbo hesitantly found his footing on the back of the dragon that had prostrated itself before the hobbit. 

It took off and Bilbo wondered if it knew where it was going. Bilbo soon realized it did not as it brought Bilbo to the heart of the nest in the mountain. He gave an exasperated sigh as it landed and allowed Bilbo to climb off. 

“Thank you, but this is not where I needed to be,” Bilbo sighed. He pulled his tattered cloak closer around him. “Perhaps Minty is nearby?” Bilbo asked. The dragon seemed unconcerned and Bilbo huffed. 

“Stupid dragons,” Bilbo groaned in frustration. He started off in the direction he thought his quarters were. After about an hour of wandering away from the nest he heard a familiar chirp calling to him. He turned around and Minty swooped overhead before landing before the hobbit on the narrow pathway he was walking on. 

“Oh, am I glad to see you,” Bilbo exhaled a shaky breath as he hurried forward and wrapped his arms around her neck. She let out a low sympathetic purr in response. “I’m sure you’ve heard what happened. I didn’t mean for it to...I didn’t mean…” Bilbo choked out a few sobs. Minty curled around Bilbo, her wings gently pulling Bilbo closer. Once he calmed down a bit he slowly mounted the dragon and allowed her to take him back to his quarters. When they arrived she hovered nearby as Bilbo went to his room. 

“It’s all right. Go back home. I’m sure Daisy and Myrtle and the others are missing you, I’m going to be fine,” Bilbo assured her. 

The next few days Bilbo stayed in his room for the most part. He only left his room a few times to make himself a meal whenever the dragons would drop off fresh food for him. 

Eventually Minty came to see him, except today she wasn’t her usual golden self. Instead she had turned an angry shade of red.

“What’s going on?” Bilbo immediately recognized something was wrong. She growled and Bilbo hesitantly approached and mounted her as she bowed for him. 

Minty ferried him to the front gate of the mountain kingdom, but she didn’t dare venture any further. 

“What is it?” Bilbo asked softly. “I can’t imagine Smaug would be happy about me wandering about outside again. Why have you brought me here?” 

She gave a low and cautious chirp. 

“All right. Stay here. I’ll go investigate whatever it is you think I need to investigate,” Bilbo sighed. He slipped the ring on cautiously, unsure about what he would find. Slowly moving to the destroyed front gate, he could see the stars shine above. Bilbo’s heart stopped for a moment and he forgot how to breathe. It had been so long since the night air whipped past his face and he had seen the stars shine above. Even during his time in Ered Luin it had been rare that he was out at night to see the stars. He hadn’t even thought about it until now. 

He was pulled back to his current mission by the sound of laughter and the smell of food cooking. Bilbo frowned as he spotted the glow of a fire in the distance. Suddenly he crouched as if he would be spotted. 

Creeping along, he passed the front gate and crossed the deteriorating bridge to investigate. 

He soon realized that a small grouping of Lake-Town Guards stood made camp before and Bilbo stood dumbfounded as he gazed at the tents before him. He was completely baffled and had no clue as to why the people were there. Had they not seen the destruction Smaug could have potentially caused their people? Why would they come back only to tempt fate more? 

Bilbo continued to sneak into the camp and watched. He quickly was able to determine who was the man in charge and he was desperate to try to figure out what they were intending to do, camped out there before the mountain. 

He was itching to take off the ring. It was torturing him and his fingers anxiously twisted the ring on his hand. As he grew distracted by the faint full body burn he felt while wearing the ring, he hadn’t realized his surroundings. A guard walked straight into him and the push caused Bilbo to yank the ring off his fingers and stumble forward. The men around them gasped in wonderment. Slowly realizing he was no longer under the protection of the invisibility the ring gave him he pulled himself to his feet and glanced around nervously. 

“H-Hello!” Bilbo called hesitantly. “I don’t believe it’s really safe to be situated out here with, you know...a dragon’s nest in the mountain. I’d clear off if I were you.” 

The men snapped to attention, startled by Bilbo’s voice. 

“You’re the creature who stayed Smaug,” one of the men finally spoke up. The group of men gasped in surprise.

“How is it possible to control that dragon?” The man who was seemingly in charge took over. 

“Straight to the point, I see,” Bilbo murmured as he quickly and stealthily hid the ring away. He knew it would not be wise to let them in on the little secret about the ring. 

“How is it you can get the dragon to do your bidding?” another man pressed. 

“I suppose this is the reason you’ve been camping on my doorstep now, is it? You’ve got the dragons in a tizzy, that’s for sure.” Bilbo anxiously stalled for time, trying to determine what these Lake-Men wanted and what they intended to do to get it. 

“You obviously have some secret over holding the dragons under your control,” the initial leader interrogated.

“I’m not quite sure either, to tell you the truth. They’ve taken a liking to me, I suppose.” Bilbo shrugged as his stomach turned itself into knots. 

“Could it have to do with whatever sorcery allows you to walk unseen?” the man who had bumped into Bilbo asked. Bilbo stared wide-eyed at the men who towered over him.  

“Listen,” the leader started in a reasonable voice. “Your little solution could allow us to live without fear of the dragons here in this mountain. We could rebuild Dale and become great again if we were rid of the dragons.” 

“Or better yet, had control of them,” another man called. 

Bilbo sighed. He hated thinking people like Bard and his family constantly lived in fear of the mountain. But he was quickly reminded of his family inside the mountain: the dragons that he had grown to care about. He certainly would never allow control of the dragons to go to those in the town. 

They were foolish to think they could control them. 

“I’m not sure if I can help you,” Bilbo admitted with a shrug. “I don’t control them.” That was the truth afterall. Even with the ring Bilbo didn’t have _absolute_ power over the dragons. 

“You’re not telling us the truth,” the man decided. “I saw with my own eyes how you ordered Smaug to stand down. You obviously hold some kind of sway over them. I suppose we could hold you here until you decide to talk...or until the dragons inside want to make a deal for you. They wouldn’t dare destroy the camp where their master may be, just as Smaug wouldn’t destroy the town for your sake,” the man observed. Bilbo swallowed, thinking about that statement. It was true that Smaug had been very cautious when he descended on the town and didn’t cause as much damage as he could have. 

“I believe that is a very bad idea,” Bilbo chuckled nervously, knowing the man was right. Smaug would not want to see Bilbo dead if only for selfish reasons. He would not order a blind attack on the encampment of men. “Smaug does not negotiate, neither do any of the other dragons. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be returning to the mountain.” A few men jumped forward at once to grab ahold of Bilbo. In a fit of panic his first instinct was to call for his dragon. 

“Minty!” Bilbo cried and the dragon swooped down over the heads of the guards. Quickly she landed, curling protectively around Bilbo. She gave a fierce roar as a warning to the surrounding men and Bilbo’s heart nearly stopped. He’d never heard her sound like that. Bilbo climbed atop her back and held on tightly. “Come on! Go!” Bilbo quickly instructed.

Using her tail she launched them away from the camp. A few arrows whizzed through the air, and luckily Minty swerved to avoid them as if she could sense their trajectory. Bilbo took a few calming breaths as they quickly re-entered the mountain. 

He was terrified. Bilbo allowed Minty to fly back to her family and he began to calm down as he slid down and her tiny hatchling came squawking over to the both of them. Minty gently butted her head against Daisy and Bilbo allowed the small dragon to scale him and perch on his shoulder. 

Even though she really was too large to continue doing this, Bilbo allowed her since it seemed as if they were all a little unsettled. They must have all felt the close presence of the men. Minty’s mate was anxiously fussing over her and Myrtle gently nudged her companion. 

“Come on, Daisy,” Bilbo eventually sighed. “Get down, you’re heavy.” Bilbo gently nudged the dragon. She squawked as she hopped off of Bilbo’s shoulder, almost pushing him over. He sighed as he watched Daisy join her family.  

He couldn’t just fly straight to Smaug about this. He knew what the dragon’s solution would be: to kill every last one of them in a show of strength and authority. Bilbo didn’t want to see anyone dead but he also didn’t like the idea that the men of Lake-Town sat just outside the mountain and believed that they could use or control the dragons themselves. 

They needed to scare them off. Right now the Men thought that dragons were merely pets that would listen to whoever comes along. They needed a way to show others that they were fearsome and not to be trifled with. Only then perhaps would the mountain be left alone. An idea began to formulate in his mind as he made a decision. 

“Minty, I’m sorry, I may need you again.” Bilbo approached the family. Daisy perked up and circled Bilbo. “We’re going to have to scare these men away and I may have an idea.” Minty turned to him and bowed her head in understanding. Daisy continued to squawk as her mother allowed Bilbo to mount her. Minty gave a few low growls which were echoed by both her mate and female companion. Daisy gave a low pleading whine. 

“We’re only going to the armory first. She can accompany us that far,” Bilbo advocated for the young dragon. Daisy jumped up flew a few circles the two of them in excitement. “All right? The armory, like I said, please.” 

They took off and Minty navigated through the mountain, young Daisy gliding along beside them. Soon enough they landed just outside the impressive armory. Bilbo had been there a few times out of curiosity about the Dwarven weapons, but he’d never intended to use anything there until now.  Minty and Daisy waited outside and watched as Bilbo perused the weapons. 

His eyes lingered on one of the helms. Catching his reflection in one of the polished shields, Bilbo gently placed the helm on his head. He smiled at the reflection and how ridiculous he looked in the armor. He figured at a distance it could be fairly intimidating.

Perhaps...if he could convince Smaug to play along, he could really scare them off. His original plan was to use Minty and any of the others in the mountain that would follow them. However, it would be most effective if Smaug were the one to play along. Bilbo could only imagine the impressive sight of Smaug emerging from the gates and scare the daylights out of the men. Of course, he never intended for any of them to die and that would be the most difficult aspect to convince Smaug of. Bilbo began to formulate the words he would use to convince Smaug of his plan. 

He picked up a staff with a sharp spear on the end and considered how threatening it looked combined with the helmet and he chuckled giddily to himself. 

“What do you think, Minty?” Bilbo showed himself to the dragon. He pulled his cloak around him tighter and stood in what he thought was an impressive looking pose. Minty gave an amused purr and Daisy bobbed excitedly at Bilbo’s feet and the hobbit couldn’t contain his mirth any longer. “So that’s a seal of approval from both of you.”

He sighed as he gave one last glance to his reflection in the shield.

“You may want to send her back now,” Bilbo suggested softly. “We’re going down to see Smaug.” 

Minty gave a low rumbling sound before giving Daisy a few chirps. The young dragon looked hesitantly between her mother and Bilbo before turning and flying back in the direction of home.

“Are you ready? I’m going to need your help too,” Bilbo murmured, gently stroked Minty’s snout. Minty met his gaze with a low reassuring sound. Finally, Bilbo mounted the dragon once more and Minty took off and turned in the direction of where the Alpha stayed. 

Flying down into the treasure hoard, he found Smaug sitting poised and alert. When they landed, Bilbo pulled the helmet off and Smaug gave him an odd look.

“What’s happened?” Smaug asked, acting unconcerned. “The others are acting strange. I have a feeling it has something to do with you.”

“Not me specifically. The men of Lake-Town are outside and they tried to take me hostage,” Bilbo explained. “They want control over the dragons in the mountain as well as the gold.” Smaug gave a low roar in irritation. 

“ _ This _ is what happens when you alert an entire town to your presence,” Smaug scoffed. 

“Don’t you dare pin this on me,” Bilbo argued angrily. “None of them would have known if you’d just stayed here in the mountain and let me come and go as I please. I was careful about what I said and who I said anything to.” 

“Absolutely not.” Smaug refused the blame. “Besides, who knows what kind of information you let slip.” Bilbo frowned, putting his hands on his hips. He had accidentally told Bard and his family about living in the mountain. But he knew Bard would have never betrayed Bilbo’s trust. He’d only known the man for an hour or two at the most but he could feel that they were trustworthy people.  “What is it you want, Ring-Bearer?” the dragon finally asked. 

“Help me in ridding the Lake-Men from our doorstep and keeping them away,” Bilbo explained. “It doesn’t make me feel any better with them loitering around outside. Especially when they’ve just tried to capture me.” 

“You’ve already expressed your disdain towards killing innocent people.” Smaug eyed Bilbo carefully. “Now you’re telling me you’d like to dispose of these people because they make you uncomfortable?”

“Not kill,” Bilbo shook his head. “Perhaps frighten them so bad their great-grandchildren will tell stories. Or perhaps just to play with them. What good is having these people who foolishly believe they can take our power if we can’t play with them a little bit? Get our own entertainment out of them?” Bilbo persuaded the dragon. Smaug began to think it over and Bilbo was internally congratulating himself. He’d accurately been able to pinpoint and exploit the dragon exactly as planned. 

“I don’t mind the way you think, Ring-Bearer.” Smaug gave Bilbo a toothy grin. “It’s not bad. It’s been a long while since I’ve had some proper fun. Are they still out there now?”

“Yes,” Bilbo nodded. “I believe so. I doubt they could have packed up and moved in the past couple hours. I don’t believe they would have wanted to. Most of the men looked frightened but the few who are in charge are determined to get what they came for: control over me or the dragons which they believe I control.” 

Smaug let out a raucous laugh, his chest glowing brightly with embers.

“They believe you are the one in control?” Smaug asked, unbelievingly. 

“I am the Ring-Bearer, am I not?” Bilbo retorted quickly. Smaug seemed to frown down at him and Bilbo quickly changed the subject. “Regardless, _they_ believe I do and they won’t rest until I’m captured or dead and I know you do not wish to lose your Ring-Bearer.” 

Smaug purred in response, his toothy grin returning. 

“What did you have in mind, Ring-Bearer? I see that you have equipped yourself with items from the Dwarven Armory,” Smaug commented. 

“I was hoping to be a part of this little scheme,” Bilbo began carefully. “I say we give them a show. Allow me to play the part they think I do.” 

Smaug hummed in consideration. 

“What part do you wish to play?” Smaug pressed. Bilbo took a deep breath and began his entire proposal. 

**x**

Bilbo couldn’t believe he had convinced Smaug of this. He was absolutely mad. Bilbo was now seated nearly atop Smaug’s head, holding on for dear life to the impressive spikes that protruded backwards from the top of the dragon’s head. 

It had taken him a while to scale Smaug’s back in his Dwarvish armor and he was especially careful as he crawled up Smaug’s long neck. Bilbo had convinced Smaug to let him sit at the top of his long neck as that would give the Lake-Men high visibility of the creature that supposedly controlled the dragons. Smaug was not too happy about continuing this false implication that Bilbo held any sway over him but acquiesced anyway. 

As they made their way back up to the front gates of the mountain, Bilbo was sure Smaug was purposefully trying to throw him off. The ride was never completely smooth when on the back of a dragon, but this was ridiculous. He had a bad feeling all the jostling around would cause one of the spikes on the top of Smaug’s head to mar him badly.

“You’re not making this easy,” Bilbo called as he gripped Smaug’s spike with one hand and his spear in the other. 

“I never said I would,” Smaug remarked and Bilbo swatted Smaug with the spear. He knew it wouldn’t actually hurt the dragon, just annoy him. Smaug let out an irritated growl and Bilbo was pleased. 

“Now remember,” Bilbo breathed out as he began to smell the fresh air and the open gate appeared before them. “We’re only going to scare them. I don’t want casualties.” Smaug gave a disapproving growl. 

“I know,” Smaug rumbled. 

“Now, let’s go,” Bilbo commanded as he readjusted his grip one last time, pulled the helmet down over his eyes and made sure his feet had found their footing on the thick spikes. Smaug gave a terrifying growl as he emerged from the mountain and sure enough the men from the town on the lake were still mulling about. Bilbo wondered if they were already considering what they’d do next. 

Nearly all the men scattered but a few held their ground at the sight of the Alpha dragon looming over them. 

“So these are the weasels you said sat before our doorstep,” Smaug growled menacingly. Bilbo mustered the most impressive and loud voice he could.

“I told you all that it was a bad idea to camp before our doorstep!” Bilbo called. He had no idea if the men could truly hear him. Keeping a hand gripped tightly around one of the spikes protruding from Smaug’s head, Bilbo waved the spear above his head. “Neither I nor the dragons care to negotiate with you.” 

“We are done with your foolishness. Return to your town and you shall be spared by the mercy of the Ring-Bearer,” Smaug threatened. 

“Perhaps we may strike a longer-lasting deal,” the leader of the men called. He was one of few remaining in the camp. The others had fled or tried to find somewhere safe to hide. 

“The Ring-Bearer has already told you, we do not negotiate,” Smaug hissed. The few men that remained stood their ground. When they didn’t go running like their counterparts Bilbo could sense that Smaug was getting angry. “Return now or I’ll gladly go back to your miserable town on the lake and finish what I started.” Bilbo could hear the rumble as Smaug prepared to unleash a wall of flame. 

“Smaug!” Bilbo cried as the great plume of fire erupted from the dragon. Luckily the helmet helped shield Bilbo’s face from most of the heat. When the fire finally receded, Bilbo could see that only one tent had caught fire. From what he could tell, the fire must have been aimed well above the encampment and he breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted figures fleeing from the mountain. “Enough!” Bilbo cried, swatting at the great dragon again with his spear. Smaug whipped his head to the side and the sudden movement nearly threw Bilbo off. When Bilbo was sure he wasn’t going to fall off, he looked below them to see the last of the men taking cover. There was still one last matter to take care of, one last thing that would hopefully keep the men away. 

“Return to your town,” Bilbo called when Smaug’s growls had quieted. “I will ensure your people are never put in harm’s way due to the dragons.” 

Of course, Bilbo wasn’t sure if that was a deal he could make. Smaug seemed to be displeased by Bilbo’s promise but he’d have to deal with Smaug’s annoyances later.

“Thank you, great dragon tamer!” one of the men called. Smaug recoiled back into the mountain and Bilbo held fast to the spikes. 

They returned to the treasure hoard  mountain and Smaug allowed Bilbo to make his way off of his back. 

“I thought we agreed we do not negotiate,” Smaug hissed. 

“We didn’t negotiate,” Bilbo argued. “They had no leverage against us, there was no give and take in that situation.” 

“Then why did you assure them they would be safe from us?” Smaug questioned. 

“Because you are the Alpha and you will keep the dragons from ever harming the people in that town,” Bilbo gripped his spear tightly in his hands. “I don’t know if they do it out of instinct or if it’s accidental or–or if it’s self-defense, I don’t know. But I can’t let those people die and we promised that on our terms. You didn’t have to negotiate and we kept the power of this ring out of their hands. If they’re kept safe, they’ll stay away from the mountain.”  

“Or they’ll only be even more tempted to try to gain control,” Smaug snapped. 

“Oh, stop. Will you just _try_ to tell the dragons to be more careful around  those people?” Bilbo asked. Smaug gave a small growl in acknowledgement. “I’m taking that as a yes? Anyway, we are a team no matter if you like it or not. You’ve said so yourself. You are more powerful with me and the ring I bear,” Bilbo started confidently. Smaug gave no response. “You have to admit you enjoyed yourself a little today,” Bilbo attempted to converse with the dragon. “I could sense it.” 

“Perhaps,” Smaug gave a sigh. “I would have had more fun if I was allowed to do as I pleased and if you hadn’t made promises you don’t even know if you can keep.”

Bilbo sighed but soon he spotted Minty flying overhead and he smiled in relief. Minty landed and bowed before Smaug and the Alpha gave a few more low growls to which Minty gave a few chirps in response. Bilbo patiently waited for them to finish before Minty finally turned to him and allowed him to climb atop her back and ferry him back to his quarters. 

**x**

A few weeks later Bilbo returned to Smaug. He wanted to leave the mountain but this time he would tell Smaug of his plans. Bilbo wasn’t about to ask for permission, but be didn’t want another repeat of Smaug descending on the town. He donned the Dwarven helm and picked up the spear he had acquired for his excursion out of the mountain with Smaug. 

After letting Smaug know he was going out for the day–and ensuring the dragon knew that he was _not_ going into the town–he left the mountain on the back of Minty. Both Myrtle and Daisy accompanied them. They traveled discreetly along the west banks of the lake where down to where it met the river. They landed and Bilbo found a place to sit for the day near the bank of the confluence. He’d hoped his hunch was right. 

Myrtle and Minty sat together under a large tree and Bilbo smiled as he watched Daisy jump and play, climbing atop trees and her mother.

Soon enough he heard something unusual and he put on the helmet and picked up the spear and cautiously made his way to the ledge overlooking the river. He spotted the familiar barge with another familiar figure on board. Bilbo sighed in relief. His guess had been right. Bard’s barge had come from this direction and the barrels he had with him came from the river leaving the forest. 

Suddenly, Bard turned around with a longbow drawn and aimed in Bilbo’s direction. 

“Bilbo?” Bard hissed in surprise as he spotted the hobbit. “Is that you?” 

“Oh.” Bilbo remembered he still had the helmet on. “Yes, it’s me, hello,” Bilbo smiled, as he took off the helmet. 

“What are you doing here? Have you cleared this with...your dragon?” Bard looked back to the mountain. 

“He knows I’m here,” Bilbo assured the bargeman. “We’re not in any danger. I just wanted to come down here and tell you thank you for dinner.”

“Oh,” Bard frowned. “That’s all?”

“And to make sure you and your family were safe after everything that happened,” Bilbo explained. 

“We’re...we’re fine,” Bard confirmed. “Is it true?” Bard asked. 

“What’s that?” Bilbo frowned. 

“That you’re the ‘Great Dragon Tamer’?” Bard asked. “That’s what they’re all saying about you.”

Bilbo smiled and then gave a soft sigh.

“I hope they’re right for their sake,” Bilbo explained. “I think I’ve gotten Smaug to tell the dragons to stay away from your town on the lake.” 

“Well, thank you.” Bard nodded. 

“I’d...also like to ask you for a favor.” Bilbo raised his eyebrows with an innocent look on his face.

“What is it you want?” Bard questioned. 

“This must be one of your usual routes on that barge of yours,” Bilbo observed the barge and the barrels. 

“I collect barrels disposed of by the Mirkwood elves,” Bard nodded. 

“I was wondering if I could make a deal with you. I’ll trade you gold–anything from the mountain you’d like–in return for things like herbs, some soap...maybe some writing utensils? It gets terribly boring up in the mountain sometimes.” Bilbo explained. “I’m still a creature of comfort, I suppose. I miss those kinds of things and now it’s going to be difficult to enter the town when I want.” 

“How am I going to explain Ereboran gold when the taxes come due? Or when the Master of the town suspects something and raids my home?” Bard asked defensively. 

“There are plenty of gold pieces in the mountain that do not bear the royal mark of Erebor,” Bilbo explained.

“It’s still hard to explain why I’ve suddenly got possession of quite a bit of gold. If the Master doesn’t find out, someone will and they’ll rob us blind.” 

“Fine. No gold pieces. I can find silver coins for you...bronze pieces, perhaps? Something less conspicuous than gold pieces.” 

“That’s...easier to manage I suppose,” Bard mumbled as he began to come around to Bilbo’s plan. Finally Bard agreed and they began to discuss a schedule and terms. “It will be nice to have a little extra money.” Bard accepted the few coins Bilbo had given him to start. “Ingrid and I are expecting another child.” 

Bilbo smiled broadly and congratulated Bard enthusiastically. 

“Then I think this arrangement will work out very well for the both of us,” Bilbo gladly assured him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S BEEN AWHILE SINCE WE'VE VISITED BILBO AND THE DRAGONS and lord I had fun finally getting to Bilbo interacting with the dragons more and we're starting to get the start of the Valka/crazy, feral, vigilante dragon tamer transformation~
> 
> Also there were a few questions regarding timeline/ages in the comments last time and Bilbo mentions his age in so for my own sanity I created a proper kind of timeline [here.](https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1b0ZunrrPEBuhKnGc3eubtHmoSPAeedJLaZlyh4UOiY0/edit?usp=sharing)  
> As always thank you to [Kate](http://bungobaggins.tumblr.com) who is such a wonderful beta! Thank you to everyone as always for your continued patience with this fic!
> 
> ((FIXED THE LINKS SINCE SOMEHOW AO3 MESSED THAT UP LMFAO))


	16. Recovery

Frodo waited at home for what seemed like ages. He had no way to tell how the mining accident was being handled or if his cousin was still alive or if Aunt Dís’ plans with the dragon worked. Frodo was itching to leave the house and find out for himself but he’d made a promise to Kíli. He’d made a promise to Uncle Thorin.

Sitting in the living area, he idly doodled in one of his journals as he reviewed some of his Khuzdul lessons from the other week. Concentrating on something else helped a little bit despite his mind still buzzing about the current situation.

Finally, Frodo began to doze on the sofa and was woken by the sound of the front door. He jolted upright and blinked a few times to see who it was: Kili.  He looked pale as a sheet and Frodo noticed...was that blood on Kíli’s hands?

“Where is everyone?” Frodo asked. “What happened?” Frodo tried not to stare at the blood on his cousin’s hands.

“‘Amad’s been hurt,” Kíli breathed shakily.

“What happened? Is Fíli all right?” Frodo begged his cousin for answers. “Is that Aunt Dís’ blood on your hands?”

Kíli looked down at his hands before anxiously hiding them behind his back.

“I’m...I’m going to go wash up,” Kíli muttered. “Then I’ve been sent to take you to the infirmary if you want to go see Fíli and ‘Amad. I figured you’d be restless here not knowing what was going on.”

Frodo swallowed hard and nodded before Kíli headed towards the washroom. He shakily organized his journal and charcoals, wondering how badly injured Aunt Dís was. Kíli hadn’t said but Frodo could easily guess that it had most likely been because of the dragon.

He thought for sure the Gronkle would have been docile enough to not cause any harm. However, he supposed space was very limited down in the mine and he knew dragons were still unpredictable and dangerous. All he could think about was how it had been his idea to use the dragon, therefore it was his fault Dís had been hurt so badly. If anything happened to her Thorin would never forgive him. Even Fíli and Kíli would hate him.

By the time Kíli returned to the main living area, Frodo was shaking with emotion.

“Hey, you don’t have to come see ‘Amad if you don’t want to,” Kíli softly told the hobbit as he went to his side.

“I’m sorry,” Frodo croaked. “I’m so sorry.” He wiped away a few stray tears that began to fall.

“What for? Frodo, what is going on?” Kíli looked startled and unsure of what to do as his hand awkwardly landed on his cousin’s back.

“It was my fault for suggesting the dragon, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for anyone else to get hurt,” Frodo quickly explained as he fought to hold back more tears. “W-Was that how Aunt Dís was hurt? The dragon?” Frodo asked.

“W-Well, yes,” Kíli sighed. “But that doesn’t mean anything is your fault, Frodo.”

“Y-Y-Yes, it does.” Frodo buried his face in his hands and allowed a loud sob to escape.

“Look, the dragon helped move the rock, though. Fíli is safe because of the dragon,” Kíli tried to comfort Frodo. This seemed to calm the hobbit a bit. “Now, come on, dry your tears and let’s get your cloak. ‘Amad wants to see you whether you think it’s your fault or not.”

Frodo nodded feebly and got up to follow Kíli to the door. He paused and collected his cloak from the peg near the front door. Now that it was later in the evening the mountain had cooled down considerably. Frodo pulled the cloak closer around himself and hurried along beside Kíli.

“How badly is Aunt Dís hurt?” Frodo asked softly as they walked.

“She’s going to live, obviously,” Kíli chuckled weakly. “But she was hurt pretty badly. One of the Nadder’s claws pulled right across her face. When I left they weren’t sure if she’s going to keep her vision in both eyes.”

“W-What?” Frodo gasped. “Did you say Nadder? She was supposed to use the Gronkle!” Frodo argued.

“Something happened, I don’t know what, but the dragon she brought to the mines was the Nadder,” Kíli explained. “It seemed like we had everything under control…” Kíli trailed off. They were silent as they continued towards the infirmary.

When they arrived Kíli navigated towards the ward where Dís was being treated. Thorin was sitting next to his sister’s bedside looking ragged. He didn’t even look up when Kíli approached with Frodo.

Frodo stared in shock at his aunt lying in the bed. Her forehead, eyes and cheekbones were bandaged and blood had seeped through some of the gauze. Frodo could see some of the blood still matted in her beard.

“‘Amad,” Kíli greeted his mother softly. “I brought Frodo to see you.”

“Ah, good. My favorite nephew is here,” Dís gave a faint smile as she turned towards Kíli’s voice.

“I’m your only nephew,” Frodo gave a relieved smile to hear Dís’ voice.

“There you are,” Dís commented. “Come here,” she motioned for Frodo to come to her bedside. He gently sat down on the bed beside her and allowed her to clasp his hand.

“Thorin,” Kíli called softly and finally Thorin looked up to his nephew. Kíli nodded away from the bed and Thorin slowly pulled himself up from his chair.

“I’ll be right back,” Thorin told his sister softly. Frodo watched as Thorin followed Kíli away from Dís’ bedside.

“Your dragon plan was a success. Or at least I hear it was. I can’t remember much,” Dís told him softly. Frodo swallowed the emotion bubbling in his throat.

“Kíli said you brought a Nadder down to the training field,” Frodo mentioned. “Why did you do that?”

“Ah, yes,” Dís sighed. “Gronkle was out cold, I couldn’t wake it. I had to do something. Nadder was the only one awake and able to fit down in the mines.”

“I can’t believe you wrestled a Nadder into going down to the mines.” Frodo gave a small smile.

“To be honest, I can’t believe it either,” Dís told him with a faint chuckle.

They were quiet for a little while as Frodo held fast to Dís’ hand. Frodo let out a shuddering sigh when he could not hold it back much longer and a small tear leaked down his face.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Dís,” Frodo gave a quiet sob.

“I don’t know why you’re apologizing. Don’t cry for me, Frodo. I’ll be just fine,” Dís assured him.

“It’s my fault you almost died…I should have never…” Frodo’s voice died in his throat.

“Frodo,” Dís gave a small sigh, gently squeezing the hobbit’s hand. “My dear Frodo.”

“It’s my fault you’re hurt. You could have died. You could lose your sight. First, I took Uncle Bilbo from Uncle Thorin and now this,” Frodo explained bitterly. “I don’t even belong here, I’m not a dwarf. None of this would have happened if...”

“Frodo, don’t you dare say that.” Dís sighed, gently squeezing Frodo’s hand. “Listen to me. It was my choice and my choice alone to bring that dragon to the mine. And no, you’re not a dwarf, you’re right. But that doesn’t mean we don’t love you so very much and you know that. I would not wish for you to be anywhere else but my bedside right now.”

Frodo silently nodded even though he knew Dís couldn’t see him. He was afraid if he opened his mouth again the tears would continue to fall.

Soon Thorin returned, a fresh pitcher of water in hand.  

“Frodo, come on,” Thorin grumbled as he set the pitcher down on Dís’ bedside table. “You shouldn’t keep Aunt Dís talking, she needs rest.”

“Thorin,” Dís muttered and Thorin hushed her. “Don’t you shush me,” Dís hissed but she was much too exhausted to argue.

Without a word Frodo slipped away from his aunt's bedside to avoid his uncle and navigated his way through the ward searching for Kíli or where Fíli might be among this madness. Finally he ran into Kíli, who was talking to one of the healers.

“You all right?” Kíli asked after bidding the healer goodbye and let them get back to their work. Frodo nodded, trying to gather his voice but failing. “Frodo, I told you, this isn’t your fault,” Kíli muttered, coming to pull Frodo into his arms.

“Yes, it is,” Frodo sobbed, burying his face in Kili’s chest. “And now Uncle Thorin’s mad at me. He probably hates me by now. I killed Uncle Bilbo and now I almost killed Aunt Dís.”

“Frodo, don’t say such things,” Kíli hushed the young hobbit. “It’s okay. She’s alive and we’re all okay. Now why don’t we go find Fíli? He’s resting in another ward with the other miners.”

Frodo allowed himself to be led to the other wing of the infirmary where the miners were. Most were jovial and for the most part unharmed. Healers flitted between the dwarves, tending to scrapes or sprains. Scanning the beds, Frodo finally spotted his cousin and Fíli lit up when he saw the pair making their way towards his bed.

“You’re back and you brought Frodo!” Fíli smiled broadly. Frodo gave his cousin a small smile but it quickly disappeared when he saw Fíli’s foot was bandaged and elevated. “Hey, I’m fine, all right?” Fíli assured Frodo. “Come sit next to me.”

Frodo crawled onto the bed and sat down next to where Fíli was leaning against his pillows.

“How is ‘Amad? Anything new?” Fíli asked.

“No, Óin said he won’t really be able to tell if she’ll still have her vision until she’s healed a little more,” Kíli sighed.

“Is she still awake? I’d like to go see her,” Fíli told his brother.

“Yes, but you probably shouldn’t be on that foot,” Kíli chuckled. Fíli sighed and nodded in resignation before turning to his hobbit cousin.

“Frodo, you’ll be happy to hear that a few of the miners were saying that it was lucky that dragon was able to get us out of there when it did. There was an aftershock several hours after the initial earthquake that caused the cave in. If we were still in the mine during the aftershock, well, things might have been much worse,” Fíli told the hobbit.

“R-Really?” Frodo asked. He couldn’t remember feeling any aftershocks but he did realize he had napped a little after Kíli brought him home. If there had been an aftershock then it must not have been enough to wake him up, but it would have been enough to do damage to the already unstable mine.

“Can you believe ‘Amad brought a Deadly Nadder down to the mine?” Fíli chuckled. “I thought she was insane.”

“I told her to bring the Gronkle to the mines,” Frodo explained. “They’re more peaceful and they consume rock.”

“Ah, of course it was your idea,” Fíli smiled. “I know. A Gronkle would have made more sense.”

The three of them talked for a little while until both Fíli and Frodo were beginning to doze leaning against one another. Kíli had taken up a conversation with a few of the other miners who were staying in the infirmary for more than superficial injuries.

Before too long, Dwalin came to find them and Kíli helped him gently rouse Frodo.

“I’ve come to take you and Kíli home,” Dwalin told the hobbit.

“Would...would it be all right if I stayed with Fíli for the night?” Kíli asked hesitantly. “I don’t think I could sleep very well at home without him there.”

Dwalin sighed.

“You are a grown dwarf now. I don’t think Thorin would have a problem with it,” Dwalin decided. “Come on, Frodo.”

“B-But I want to stay too,” Frodo meekly claimed.

“Thorin was specific. I need to take you home,” Dwalin explained.

“Everyone is here, though,” Frodo protested softly.

“Which is why I’ll be staying at your home tonight,” Dwalin told Frodo. “Make sure you’re okay.”

Frodo frowned and looked away.

“It’ll be easier this way, lad,” Dwalin assured the hobbit. “They don’t need more people under foot than they already have.”

Frodo finally agreed as he gently slid off of Fíli’s bed. He bid goodbye to Kíli and followed Dwalin out of the infirmary.

“How’s Aunt Dís?” Frodo asked quietly.

“Sleeping,” Dwalin replied shortly. “Along with your uncle. It’s been a long day.”

“I haven’t had anything to eat tonight,” Frodo realized as they walked.

“Neither have I,” Dwalin sighed. “Doubt any of the street vendors or anyone in the markets are still open this late, especially after the quake. We’ll make something when we get home, all right?”

When they got home Dwalin was quick to light the hearth in the main living area as well as the kitchen. As Dwalin lit a few of the  other candles in the home, Frodo looked through their pantry for something he could make them for a quick dinner.

“Do you think Aunt Dís will be able to come home to recover soon?” Frodo asked softly as he set the table. He had gathered a quick dinner since he was too exhausted to think about cooking anything for his guest and himself. It was mostly breads and cheeses and cured meats.

“Maybe not tomorrow, but we’ll work on getting her home,” Dwalin promised as he helped serve up their meager meal. “I’m sure we’ll able to get Fíli home tomorrow. That way you’ll have your cousins here at least.”

Frodo nodded. After dinner, Dwalin helped clean up their dishes and Frodo found some extra blankets and pillows in the linen closet. Frodo made up the sofa as a bed for Dwalin and stoked the fire.

“Thank you,” Dwalin smiled at the hobbit as he came over to the sofa. “Do you need...tucked in?”

“Dwalin, I’m eighteen years old,” Frodo sighed.

“Yes, you’re still a child, aren’t you? When are hobbits considered adults again?” Dwalin asked.

“Thirty-three,” Frodo crossed his arms.

“You’re still a child then,” Dwalin nodded. “So do you need a bedtime story?”

“Dwalin,” Frodo sighed, but he couldn’t help but smile.

“You really don’t want to hear about the time I nearly got my leg torn off by a Nightmare?” Dwalin chuckled. “How about how I nearly lost my arm to a Whispering Death?”

“Not tonight. Maybe another day,” Frodo shrugged.

“If you’re sure,” Dwalin shrugged. “Goodnight.”

“Night.” Frodo turned and headed upstairs.

**x**

Within the next few days Dís was able to be moved back home to rest in her own bed. It was still too soon to say for sure if Dís would still have her vision or not once she’d healed, but Óin seemed hopeful. Dís had kept in good spirits as she continued to heal and Frodo was immensely relieved to have Dís at home. He spent quite a bit of time sitting by her bedside, but so did Thorin. Neither of them spoke much to each other over the next few days but they were both determined to stay by Dís’ side as much as possible. To Dís, it was unbearable.

“You’re both killing me,” Dís finally groaned. “Can we talk? Can we all talk as adults, here?”

“What’s wrong?” Thorin asked, looking panicked at first.

“The tension between you and Frodo. You’re smothering me with it. Don’t make me have Frodo fetch my sons. You know, the ones who should be here at my bedside,” Dís snapped.

“They’re out,” Frodo replied quietly.

“Doing what exactly? Why isn’t Fíli here resting?” Dís asked. “He’s still hurt.”

“He’d rather hobble around on a crutch for a little while instead of sit around healing,” Thorin replied.

“He’s only going to hurt himself more,” Dís sighed. “Look, you’ve gotten me off topic. Have you two talked since the accident?”

The silence that followed Dís’ question was enough of an answer for her.

“I’d leave the room to give you a chance to talk, but,” Dís gestured to her bed-ridden state.

“What do you think we need to talk about?” Thorin asked, looking at Dís and avoiding Frodo’s gaze.

“Obviously something, since the two of you have refused to say a word to each other unless it’s about me,” Dís explained as she became exasperated.

“Frodo, why don’t we head outside?” Thorin finally stood up and addressed Frodo.

“Thank you,” Dís sighed.

Frodo followed his uncle out of the room and continued down the stairs behind him.

“Sit down,” Thorin gestured to the dining table. “I’ll make us something to eat.”

Frodo sat silently wondering if Thorin was going to actually talk to him or just make them food and tell Dís they had a discussion. He wondered if Thorin was truly so angry with him that he would avoid talking to him altogether if it wasn’t for Dís in her current state.

“Uncle Thorin,” Frodo sighed when it didn’t seem like Thorin was going to be the one to start their conversation.

Thorin didn’t say anything as he focused on preparing their meal.

Frodo didn’t want to anger Thorin anymore than he already had so he decided not to pursue the conversation any further.

“I’ve lived my entire life feeling unsettled,” Thorin started. “Since I was young I’ve had to fight for the survival of my people...of my family. That part is not new to me.” Thorin fell silent again and Frodo was unsure if Thorin expected a response or not so he kept quiet, waiting to see if Thorin would continue. “I just thought I had reached a point in my life where things would settle and I could live a peaceful unchanging life. I thought I had earned a sure, relatively safe life by now,” Thorin finally continued quietly. “I thought I had reached that when I married Bilbo and adopted you into my life. Then Bilbo was taken from me and I was left with the same unsettled feeling for quite some time. As we began to rebuild our lives after that, I felt that we had begun to solidify things once again.” Thorin trailed off as he worked. “I’m beginning to think I should never again expect my life to steady. Every time I do, something happens to shake that surety. Now you’ve introduced dragons into the equation and the belief that we can somehow tame the beasts.” Thorin shook his head as he handed Frodo a plate.

“Fíli said if it hadn’t been for the dragon they would have been killed in an aftershock,” Frodo rebuked.

“That was a one time _fluke_. Next time, Dís could be dead,” Thorin argued. “It’s foolish to try to control those dragons.”

“It’s not about control,” Frodo explained. “It’s about trust.”

“Just as Dís _trusted_ that dragon would help her and not hurt her?” Thorin asked. “I don’t care what it’s about. It’s dangerous and it’s endangering my family and I don’t want anymore ‘flukes.’ I don’t want anymore dragon-related incidents.”

“I can’t make any promises,” Frodo muttered, thinking about his Timberjack down at the training fields.

“Do you not understand how serious this is? Your little games with the dragons are over. Dís has probably lost her eyesight and it’s because you gave her the foolish idea that she could ‘trust’ the dragons. You’re the reason she’s in this state! You’re the reason she had the foolish notion that she could bring a dragon down into the mine and _not suffer consequences!”_

Frodo only stared at Thorin, his gaze boring into the dwarf. The front door opening didn’t interrupt their staredown and Frodo only heard his cousins greet them, obviously unaware of the situation. Frodo got up and pushed his plate away before turning and making his way towards the front door, grabbed his cloak and hurried out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

“Frodo, wait!” Kíli called as he ran after his cousin. “Frodo, what just happened?” Kíli asked.

“I told you! Uncle Thorin hates me,” Frodo snapped, holding back angry tears. “He said Aunt Dís’ injuries were my fault.”

“I’m sure he didn’t actually mean that,” Kíli tried to assure Frodo as they walked. Frodo didn’t know where he was going but he knew he just wanted to get away from Thorin.

“He did. He told me directly that it was my fault,” Frodo hissed as angry tears began to fall down his cheeks.

Kíli growled something in Khuzdul that Frodo didn’t understand. He guessed it was probably cursing of some kind, which were words Ori refused to teach him.

“It’s not,” Kíli finally sighed. “It’s not your fault and I know that and Fíli knows that and ‘Amad knows that.”

“But Thorin seemingly doesn’t,” Frodo muttered.

**x**

“What the hell was that?” Fíli frowned at his uncle after the door slammed. “Why have you got Frodo upset?” Fíli continued when it didn’t seem like Thorin was going to give an answer.

“Your mother thought we should talk,” Thorin explained brusquely.

“I’m pretty sure whatever she meant didn’t include that,” Fíli snapped as he looked down at Frodo’s barely touched plate. “I’m going to see ‘Amad.”

“Fíli, you shouldn’t be tackling stairs with that leg.” Thorin quickly tried to distract his nephew from his quest.

Fíli ignored his uncle’s call and slowly made for his mother’s room. Gently knocking on her door, Fíli let himself inside.

“Hey, ‘Amad,” Fíli called softly.

“Did I hear shouting downstairs? Please tell me I didn’t hear shouting,” Dís sighed.

“Oh, I’m sure you did. Frodo left in a hurry right as Kíli and I got in. Kíli went after him,” Fíli explained.

“Thank goodness,” Dís sighed. The door opened again and Thorin stood shamefully in the doorway. “Mahal help you, Thorin, as soon as I’m off of bedrest I’m going to end you. Sight or no sight.”

“I just don’t think—” Thorin started quietly, only to be cut off by his sister.

“No, you don’t think, do you?” Dís snapped.

“All right,” Fíli turned and ushered his uncle out of the room. “You’re only upsetting her. You’ve done enough of that tonight.” He shut the door behind him.  “Go clean up whatever you were making. Now that I’m home I can watch over ‘Amad tonight.”

Thorin glowered at his nephew before turning and doing as he was told. Fíli sighed and turned to head back into his mother’s room.

“I should have been a better mediator,” Dís sighed.

“It’s not your fault,” Fíli sighed, going to occupy the armchair Thorin had been sitting in.

“I hope Kíli caught up to Frodo,” Dís continued. “I don’t want them out all night.”

“Kíli was right behind Frodo, I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Fíli assured her. “Do you know what they were arguing about?”

“No, but I can probably guess,” Dís sighed. “The tension was absolutely terrible between them when they would both sit with me because it’s about me.”

“It’s about blame, isn’t it?” Fíli asked softly. “Kíli said that Frodo feels as if it’s his fault that you got your injuries. Thorin probably just added fuel to the fire.”

“Yes,” Dís sighed. “I wish they’d both stop being stupid and let me take the blame for my own injuries,” Dís muttered. “It doesn’t matter. I would do it again in a heartbeat. Even if I do lose my sight I would do it again knowing that it saved you.”

“‘Amad,” Fíli sighed with a small smile.

“It’s true,” Dís assured him.

“I know,” Fíli murmured.

There was a soft knock on the door before it opened.

“I just...thought you might want some of the food I was preparing earlier,” Thorin offered apologetically.

“Thorin,” Dís muttered. “Please apologize to Frodo when he gets home. This injury is my fault and none of the blame should be placed on Frodo.” Dís tried to reason with her brother. “Perhaps you could have him show you his dragon. Maybe then you wouldn’t be so blind to the true nature of these animals. They really are not as brutal as we think they are. This was a mistake, not an attack.”

“Mistake or not, I do not wish to see any more of my family injured or killed because of these dragons. _No one_ seems to understand that,” Thorin gave an exasperated sigh.

“If we treat the dragons right I do believe we won’t have to worry about that,” Dís offered. “We _can_ change the way we see dragons entirely and Frodo’s already seen that,” she insisted. “Anyway, I don’t want to hear of anymore arguments about whose fault it was. We’ve had enough of that over the past couple years and I’m sick of it.”

“All right, _namad,_ ” Thorin muttered softly. “I’m retiring for the evening,” Thorin informed them before leaving the plate of food and retreating from the room.

“Hand me something to eat, I’m starving,” Dís murmured.

“Should have said something sooner,” Fíli chuckled as he picked up the plate and guided her hands to it. “When did Óin say he’d be able to take your bandages off and see if you’ve...retained your vision or not?”

“Any day now I would think. How long has it been?” Dís asked.

“Almost a week,” Fíli told her.

“It’s felt like a month,” she groaned. “I think Óin said he’d check after a week to see how I was healing. At this point I don’t care if I have vision or not, I just want out of this bed for more than ten minutes a day.”

“It’s important you rest,” Fíli told her softly.

Dís asked about his day out with Kíli and soon she began to fret about Kíli and Frodo being gone for too long. Just as Fíli was offering to go out and look for them, they heard the door downstairs open. Fíli stood up and went to greet them.

“Everything all right?” Fíli asked as he slowly made his way down the stairs and paused half way.

Kíli gave a small shrug and Frodo avoided Fíli’s gaze.

“I know what happened,” Fíli sighed. “Come on, Thorin’s already gone to bed. I think ‘Amad wants to see you both,” Fíli told them and led them up to Dís’ room.

“Are all my boys home now?” Dís asked as the door opened.

“We're all home,” Kíli told his mother.

“Frodo, come here,” Dís reached blindly for her nephew. Frodo timidly went to Dís, taking hold of her hand.

“Whatever Thorin told you to get you all upset is not true. This is all my fault and I don't want you feeling that it is in anyway your fault.”

“I know,” Frodo sighed. “I still feel somewhat responsible.”

“You're responsible for getting Fíli and the others out in time. At least fourteen other dwarves owe you their life,” Dís tried to persuade him. “The fact that I was injured is an afterthought. That’s not what’s important. I’m trying to get Thorin to understand that.”

“Okay,” Frodo squeezed his aunt’s hand.

“I told him as soon as I’m up and have my vision back—which I’m sure I will—that I’m going to set him in his place,” Dís assured Frodo. “Even if I don’t have my vision back, as soon as I’m able to get out of this damn bed, he better watch out.”

Frodo smiled at his aunt’s ferocious attitude. The injury had not changed her one bit.  

**x**

The next day Óin made a house call to check up on Dís’ conditions. The entire family hovered nearby, Thorin and Fíli sitting at her bedside and Kíli and Frodo standing in the doorway.

First, he asked Dís how she was feeling and checked up on any bruises that were not covered by bandages. Next, he took the bandages off and gently prodded at the skin and the wound that stretched from the right side of her forehead, down across her brow, straight across her right eye and over to her nose and trailed off on her upper left cheek.

“Oh, Mahal,” Dís groaned. “Well, I...I can see out of my left eye at least,” Dís murmured.

The group that hovered around her breathed a sigh of relief.

“That’s a good sign. I didn’t believe there would be much damage to that eye as the wound was far enough away from the most delicate parts of your eyes.” Óin smiled. “Now, I’m going to need to examine your right eye. The swelling has gone down significantly, you should be able to very slowly open that eye.” Óin reached over as Dís gently opened her damaged right eye.

Frodo was already feeling queasy from his obscured view of his aunt’s injuries. He couldn’t even imagine how bad the eye probably looked and he quickly averted his gaze towards Kíli who looked like he was feeling about the same way.

Óin gave a low hum as he examined the eye.

“Well, I’m going to gently cover your left eye and I need you to tell me if you can see anything out of your right. Ready?” Óin asked. Dís gave a small hum in acknowledgement as the physician gently covered her eye.

“I don’t see anything,” Dís told him. Óin gave a small sigh.

“I suspected as much,” Óin muttered.

“It will not heal?” Dís asked quietly. The others in the room were completely silent.

“Not likely, no,” Óin admitted. The resounding silence that followed the physician’s diagnosis was deafening. Even Dís, who had been relatively optimistic about her status, remained silent. “I’m sorry, my lady.”

“I’ve at least got my sight in one eye and I’m thankful for that,” Dís conceded. “Can I get out of bed now?” Dís asked.

“Let me rebandage what I need to,” Óin told her. “But yes, if you feel up to it. Your concussion and other injuries are looking much better.”

“Thank Mahal,” Dís sighed in relief as the physician hovered over her again to reapply part of her bandages.  They quietly discussed the wound as Óin finished up and told her when he’d be back to change the bandage and check up on her progress.

Óin oversaw Dís getting up from her sickbed and steadied her as she stood.

“Come on, Frodo, come help me see Óin downstairs,” Dís said as she reached for her nephew.

“You’ll _see_ him out,” Kíli giggled softly, despite the solemn atmosphere.

“Mahal, you jumped on that didn’t you?” Dís grinned broadly and Frodo couldn’t help but chuckle, glad to see his aunt smile again.

“You sure you’re up to going down the stairs, really?” Fíli frowned. “You’ve only just gotten up.”

“You’re one to talk, you’re still healing too. Besides, I want to eat at the kitchen table for the first time in what feels like months,” Dís complained. “Óin, you know you’re welcomed to stay for lunch.”

“I thank you very much but I have other appointments to attend to today,” Óin politely declined. The physician bid them goodbye and left as Dís was settled into a seat at the table.

As they sat down to enjoy their noon meal there was a knock at the door.

“Perhaps Óin forgot something,” Dís remarked as Thorin got up to answer the door. Pulling the door open, Bofur stood in the doorway and greeted them.

“My apologies for interrupting,” Bofur apologized, seeing that the table was set with fresh food. “I only wanted to see how Fíli and Dís were getting on after the accident last week.”

“Invite him in, Thorin,” Dís called. “Is that Bofur?”

“The one and only, my lady,” Bofur lifted his hat off his head. Thorin stepped aside and allowed Bofur inside.

“You’re welcome to join us,” Dís offered.

“I only require a seat. I just ate at my brother’s. It’s a good sign to see you sitting at the table, Dís.”

“Óin’s just left from checking up on me. Says I’m making progress, but still believes I’ll have no sight out of this eye,” she gestured to her bandaged eye.

“That’s too bad,” Bofur offered his condolences. “Still, it’ll make for a fine scar and a heroic tale.”

“True enough,” Dís chuckled. Bofur asked about Fíli’s injury and after updating them all on the others’ conditions he changed the subject once again.

“Now I must get to the real reason for my visit,” Bofur remarked. They all seemed confused, wondering what he had actually come for.

“What do you need, Bofur?” Dís asked.

“Well, I need to talk to young Master Frodo specifically,” Bofur explained.

“Why Frodo?” Thorin anxiously asked.

“I’ve heard word around of how Frodo has a kind of calming presence around the dragons...and that it was his plan to bring the dragon down to help with the mining cave in,” Bofur started. Out of the corner of his eye Frodo could see Thorin visibly stiffen. The entire family sat in silence waiting to see where Bofur was going with this. “Anyway, the mountain sustained substantial damage with the last earthquake. More so in the mines, but there needs to be some structural reinforcements and repairs all over the mountain. I’ve been talking to some of the others and they think there’s potential in using the dragons. We have the rams yes, but we only have a handful of them and they’re nowhere near as powerful as a dragon could be.”

“They want to foolishly risk their lives just to do some repair work?” Thorin questioned through gritted teeth. “We’ve made repairs without dragons before, we can do it again.”

“Well, no one’s too keen on actually taking the more...aggressive dragons down into the mines at least, but a Gronkle would be mighty useful down there now and again. If Frodo’s found a way to control the dragons, well, I don’t see why we wouldn’t use them somewhere other than down at the training fields.”

Before Thorin could say anything Frodo spoke up.

“I’ve tried to explain before,” Frodo glanced over to his uncle, “it’s not about control. I don’t control the dragons,” Frodo argued. “You have to earn their trust. For all these years we’ve treated them like beasts so they’ve only responded accordingly. If we treat them with respect and the dignity they deserve they’re very tame...even friendly,” Frodo explained.

Once again Thorin opened his mouth only to be interrupted.

“It’s true,” Dís quickly backed her nephew. “I’ve witnessed this before, as I’m sure you know. It’s amazing how these dragons respond to this kind treatment.”

“Great,” Bofur smiled. “Frodo, I’d really like you to show me how you interact with these dragons,” Bofur said, turning back to the young hobbit.

 _“Enough!”_ Thorin barked. “Frodo is still a child! And as a child I am still his guardian. Furthermore it is my decision whether or not we use dragons in any reconstruction efforts. I may be without a throne but my family still reigns here in Ered Luin.”

“And in case you’ve forgotten, _that includes me,_ ” Dís hissed sharply. “It is my decision as well and I believe we should be open to learning and teaching the others that the dragons can be peaceful.”

“If you want to go out and have everyone injured or killed, fine by me. However, I still have final say in how much Frodo is involved,” Thorin argued.

“Frodo has grown into a mature hobbit who can make decisions on his own,” Dís countered quickly.

“ _He is still a child!_ ” Thorin snapped.

“Stop!” Frodo cried. “I know it’s foolish and risky...and I don’t want to upset Uncle Thorin anymore.”

“Thank you,” Thorin gave a sigh of relief.

“But I think it might be a good idea to try this,” Frodo continued. “If people were more receptive...well maybe the dragons really could be useful. We already know that the dragons helped with the mine collapse.”

“At the expense of Dís’ eyesight!” Thorin retorted.

“I have a proposition,” Dís interrupted, looking towards her brother. “We’ll all go down to see the dragons.” Thorin looked ready to argue again. “Frodo will show Bofur how he interacts with the dragons _while they’re still in their cages_ , _”_ Dís assured Thorin as she caught his angered expression. “From there only Bofur and the others will be involved in using the dragons to reinforce any damaged infrastructure, if that’s what they decide. Frodo needn’t be involved at all past that point. Is everyone happy?” The entire room stayed silent for a long while. “Though I do request we do this another day, I’ve only been out of bed for less than an hour for the first time all week.”

“Of course, my lady. I find these terms agreeable,” Bofur finally agreed. “Let me know when you’ll be feeling up to escorting us down to the dragons,” Bofur suggested. Soon enough he was bidding his goodbyes and Thorin saw him out.

When Thorin turned around again Frodo had expected to see another variation of Thorin’s angry expressions. Instead, he merely looked exhausted...perhaps defeated. Frodo felt a pang of guilt. He knew that Thorin only had their best interests at heart and was merely frustrated with the entire ordeal. But Frodo also knew that if the dwarves learned to work together with the dragons, both parties may benefit.

**x**

Although Frodo was nervous, the day of their dragon appointment couldn’t get there soon enough. Frodo was excitedly awaiting seeing his dragon again since it had been quite some time since he’d gotten to visit the Timberjack. He was also eager to show the dwarves how to treat the dragons. Somewhere in the pit of his stomach he hoped—he _knew_ —that this would be a turning point for them. At last, someone other than Aunt Dís could see them for what they truly were: peaceful animals.   

“Frodo, are you ready to go?” Dís called. “Come help me down the stairs.”

Frodo emerged from his room and smiled gently at his aunt. He knew she really didn’t need the help downstairs, but she was still adjusting to her vision only coming from one eye, which could cause her to misjudge her step.

Dís still had a bandage that covered part of her face which still needed to  be changed quite often. Óin had said she should keep it bandaged until it properly started to heal, which he thought could be quite some time.

“Will you be okay to come with us today?” Frodo asked, taking her arm.

“You’re starting to sound like your uncle,” Dís laughed. “I’m not going into any dragon cages today, so I don’t think I’m in much danger. Besides, I’ll have you at my side to keep an eye out for me. Hah, get it? Keep an _eye_ out for me.”

Frodo rolled his eyes. Since Kíli’s unintentional pun both Kíli and Dís had enjoyed their fair share of more unintended sight-related puns. Frodo had to laugh, relieved that his aunt was doing so well after her injury. Dís had confided in Frodo that she had accepted the possibility she would end up completely blind from the injury. With at least one eye functioning, she was beyond relieved to have part of her sight back instead of no sight at all.

When they got downstairs Frodo saw Thorin anxiously waiting by the door.

“Where are Fíli and Kíli?” Frodo asked.

“Already down there. They’re going to meet us,” Thorin replied stiffly.

Frodo was beginning to feel as nervous as Thorin looked. Frodo worried that with Dís and Fíli, who were still recovering from their injuries, they might not be able to fully defend themselves if need be. He was concerned the dragons might become overwhelmed and… if they startled like they did during the mine collapse things might go badly. Frodo could only imagine that was part of his uncle’s anxiousness.

As they left the home Frodo gently reached out to squeeze Thorin’s hand and Thorin almost jumped at the soft contact. He looked down and gave Frodo a small smile. It wasn’t much but it relieved Frodo to see him smile again, even if it was a small one.  

Dís made light conversation as they made their way down towards the training grounds. Eventually they reached the dragons’ pens to find the others waiting for them.

“I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous,” Bofur explained quietly as Dwalin unlocked the entrance to the dragons’ hold.

“I think we all are a little,” Dís confirmed softly, glancing at the expressions on the other dwarves faces.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve tackled a fully grown Nadder. If anyone here isn’t nervous it should be you,” Bofur joked.

“Yes, but I also got this,” Dís gestured at the bandage covering part of her face.

“That’s why this is a bad idea,” Dwalin muttered, echoing all of Thorin’s past protests. “Who knows if the dragons will be spooked again and do something like this to someone else.”

“Let Frodo show you,” Dís sighed. “Then you can go and make your decisions.”

“I’ve already seen you do it, and I’ve already made my decision,” Dwalin grumbled.

“Let the others decide for themselves then,” Dís ended the argument.

After the terse exchange they all continued inside in silence. After the innermost door leading to where the dragons were kept was opened, the group looked towards Frodo.

“Are you going to take us to your dragon?” Bofur asked. Frodo nervously glanced at Thorin. It was bizarre to finally be down here with Thorin after all the sneaking around.

Frodo nodded silently and made his way down the familiar path through the corridors to find where the Timberjack he’d befriended was kept. When they arrived at the cell, Frodo stepped forward.

“Hello,” Frodo called softly. The Timberjack stirred a little at the sound of Frodo’s voice. It perked up and softly chirped hello as it propped itself up on it’s wings. The dragon slowly made its way towards Frodo, warily watching the crowd behind him. “It’s all right, my friend. These are my friends and family,” Frodo quietly reassured the dragon. “They’re not here to hurt you.”

Frodo invited them up to the cage, individually introducing them to Frodo’s dragon. Bofur was first and hesitantly approached the cell with a small curious smile. Frodo reached out and touched the dragon’s snout. After some convincing Frodo got Bofur to extend his hand and to mimic Frodo’s gesture. It took several tries of extending and retracting his hand before Bofur’s hand finally made contact with the scaly snout of the dragon.

Bofur chuckled as he realized how friendly the dragon could be and the Timberjack quietly rumbled to mimic Bofur’s laughter.

The following dwarves were a little more reluctant. However, once they closed the distance between them and the dragon, Frodo couldn’t help but feel pride at the soft and awed expressions on the dwarves faces.

Last was Thorin.

“Well? Everyone’s gone but you,” Frodo looked pointedly at his uncle. Thorin looked cross at the others as if they’d betrayed him.

“It’s only fair. We all did it,” Bofur shrugged. “Now it’s your turn.”

“Don’t you think I’ve had my turn when I helped you return this dragon back to the mountain when you tried to release it?” Thorin argued. Dís nudged him.

“You haven’t actually experienced what Frodo is showing all of us, unless you’ve been down here secretly befriending all the dragons in your spare time,” Dís encouraged him. Dwalin snorted in amusement.

Frodo’s breath caught in his throat as Thorin stepped forward.

“Are you okay?” Frodo asked softly as Thorin approached the cell. The Timberjack studied Thorin carefully, skeptically eying the dwarf just as the dwarf was skeptically eyeing the dragon.

“All right,” Frodo nodded. “Relax, it can sense how tense you are,” Frodo said. Thorin shifted uncomfortably before trying to relax as Frodo had said. “Take a deep breath,” Frodo instructed. Thorin glanced over to his nephew before resigning and looking back at the dragon as he breathed in slowly, then exhaled. Frodo gently reached out to the Timberjack, who patiently allowed him to once again touch his snout. Then Frodo instructed Thorin to reach his own hand out and as Thorin began to reach forward the Timberjack startled a bit.

“It doesn’t like me,” Thorin hissed bringing his hand back quickly.

“No quick movements! No wonder it doesn’t seem to like you,” Frodo muttered. He took a calming breath of his own before looking back to his uncle. “Extend your hand and let the dragon sniff you, you’re still unfamiliar and in the past you’ve been aggressive. You need to show the dragon you don’t mean any harm.”

Thorin gave an exasperated look before finally beginning to extend his hand. Frodo watched with baited breath, hoping the dragon would cooperate for one more person...the most important person that they needed to convince.

Letting his hand hover over the dragon’s snout, they all watched and waited for what seemed like an eternity. Thorin refused to move his hand any closer to the dragon no matter how much sniffing it did. Frodo was about to call it off and tell Thorin that the dragon might just be tired and irritable from the day’s event when the dragon lifted its snout to gently nudge Thorin’s hand.

For a split second, Frodo was worried Thorin was going to jump at the sudden contact, causing the dragon to startle. Instead Thorin gingerly rubbed the snout, his rough fingers brushing against Frodo’s soft hand still resting on the snout.

Then, just as hesitantly as Thorin had extended his hand, he retracted it, safely pulling his arm from the cage. Frodo followed suit and they both stood quietly. The others began to talk about seeing some of the other dragons and deciding what they should do next.

Frodo’s stomach churned unpleasantly. If the dwarves were thinking Frodo could do that with all the dragons they were mistaken. He only knew for sure that it worked with his Timberjack and he’d been too nervous to try it with any others. Frodo looked toward Dís who had linked her arm with her eldest son. She had done it. Aunt Dís had faced the Nadder and was able to calm it. If anyone, they should be asking her.

The group finally began to move on and now Frodo lingered more at the back of the group. Thorin silently fell into step beside Frodo as they continued down the corridor.

“What’s our next step?” one of the dwarves in the group asked. They stopped to begin discussing what they should do, in terms of that afternoon as well as in the long run.

“I think they need to become used to our presence,” Bofur offered.

“Your _non-threatening_ presence,” Frodo added and Bofur nodded in agreement.

“They need to know our presence is non-threatening and that we’re not here to drag them out for practice as they have been in the past. I suggest we come down here another three or four times at least to familiarize ourselves with the dragons before making any further attempts like entering their cages or eventually allowing them out. We’ll consider carefully which dragons are deemed safe enough to allow out, when the time comes,” Bofur looked to Thorin for his approval. The dwarf nodded silently.

The group continued to chatter on excitedly and Dís broke off from the group and wandered down the corridor until she found the cell she was looking for. Suddenly, she felt a hand grabbing at her arm and she had to turn her entire head to see who it was who had grabbed her. When her gaze met her cousin she deflated and sighed.

“You shouldn’t wander off with that injury of yours,” Dwalin chastised her gently. “Especially when you’re seeking out the dragon who gave it to you.” Dwalin turned to look at the Nadder watching them carefully.

“I just wanted to see it again,” Dís sighed. “I...thought I was angry, but...I can’t bring myself to feel that way towards the dragon. It saved my son’s life.”

Dwalin grunted and Dís wasn’t sure if it was a grunt of approval or disapproval.

“It didn’t do this on purpose, Dwalin,” Dís tried to persuade her pig-headed cousin.

“Obviously not, but they’re still dangerous whether they do it on purpose or not,” Dwalin argued.

The dragon in the cell padded closer to get a better look at its visitors.

“I wanted to thank you,” Dís spoke up. She wasn’t sure if the dragon recognized her or not. Surely, the dragons were clever enough to remember people if Frodo’s Timberjack excitedly bounced around at the sight of its hobbit friend. It gave a low purr in response, blinking slowly and turning its head this way and that to get a good look at Dís. “Perhaps you’re confused by my bandages,” Dís suggested as she took a step closer to the cell. “Yes, you’re the one who did this to me,” she smiled softly as the dragon squawked in response.

“Dís, we should get back,” Dwalin sighed wearily. He was growing more tense the closer Dís got to the cell door.

“You do remember me, don’t you?” Dís asked, growing closer to the cell bars. She decided she’d practice what Frodo had been teaching the others that day. Slowly, as to not startle the dragon, Dís raised her hand. It hovered in front of the cell just outside the reach of the Nadder. Its nostrils flared as it took in her scent and then continued to purr. Finally, Dís slowly closed the distance between her and the dragon’s snout pressed against the bars. Her hand barely touched the cool scales of the dragon and it closed its eyes as Dís gently pressed her hand against its snout.

Dís was expecting another scolding from Dwalin any moment, hissing her name in a quiet warning. Instead, he was silent. Finally she heard his boots shift on the ground and a few steps on the gravel floor. Hardly taking her good eye off the dragon she saw him approach slowly out of the corner of her eye.

“Yer absolutely mad,” Dwalin finally breathed.

**x**

After more talking, the dragons continued to peer at them curiously as they moved past more cells. When the group stopped in front of a particular cell to talk and look at the dragon inside, Frodo decided to return to his dragon. When he thought Thorin looked preoccupied enough, the hobbit turned and made his way back the way they’d come.

Once he’d found his dragon, he knelt down beside the cell door as the Timberjack peered at Frodo from where it had laid to take its nap for the afternoon. Frodo began talking to the dragon about what was going on and why all the dwarves were down there. He didn’t think the dragon truly understood him but it seemed to enjoy the sound of Frodo’s voice.

Eventually, Thorin came and found Frodo. The hobbit could sense Thorin watching him carefully as he slowly approached. He stopped talking softly to the dragon as his uncle came to a stop.

“Is everyone ready to go?” Frodo asked, keeping his gaze fixed on the dragon.

“Not quite,” Thorin replied, accompanied by a jangle of what sounded like keys. “I was thinking you might introduce me properly to your dragon.”

“What do you mean?” Frodo asked timidly glancing at the keys in Thorin’s hand. Surely he didn’t mean to imply...? Bofur hadn’t wanted to open the cells for another three or four visits! What was Thorin…?

“Would your dragon be all right if we went inside?” Thorin asked.

“Yes...it’s just. Are you sure?” Frodo asked, as he stood straight to meet Thorin’s gaze. There was a flicker of hesitation in his uncle’s gaze, but the dwarf nodded nonetheless. Thorin silently handed the key ring to Frodo. The hobbit anxiously reached out and clasped the specific key that Thorin was handing him. The dragon perked up, as it has already memorized what the key ring sounded like. If it heard the key ring it meant that someone was coming into its cage.

Frodo smothered his smile as he noticed the dragon’s excitement.

“Calm down, you’re going to upset Uncle Thorin,” Frodo chided the dragon lightly as he jiggled the key in the keyhole. Finally the lock opened and Frodo began to pull the door open. The Timberjack came to greet Frodo at the door and the hobbit had to shoo the dragon back.

Thorin lingered outside of the cell, seemingly torn between following closely to make sure he could protect Frodo or staying well outside of the dragon’s cage. Frodo quietly shushed the dragon as it made excited chirping noises.

“Dís explained to me that the dragons were like cats,” Thorin started as he timidly entered the cage. “Feral and unpredictable if left wild, but can be loyal and tame if they find someone they bond with.”

“She’s not incorrect,” Frodo gave an amused hum as he watched the dragon succumb to Frodo’s soft scratching of the dragon’s jaw.

“Have you named him yet?” Thorin asked as he observed the dragon carefully. Frodo opened his mouth to speak before he realized he hadn’t. It hadn’t really occurred to him before this. Perhaps it had been because he was secretly worried that as soon as he named the dragon something would happen to tear them apart again. He was unwilling to risk growing so attached to a dragon he wasn’t even sure would _actually_ be his.

“I haven’t,” Frodo stated. “What do you think it should be?”

“This dragon is yours, he is yours to name,” Thorin shrugged. Frodo felt gooseflesh rise on his arms.

“My dragon.” Frodo gave a quiet sigh of relief to hear those words from Thorin. After several minutes of quiet contemplation, Frodo ran through every kind of name he could. It would be unsuitable to name him a proper name; however, the silly pet names of the Shire seemed inappropriate for a dragon. He couldn’t very well name a dragon Daisy or Pumpkin. No, perhaps he needed a name in dwarvish. Testing his Khuzdul vocabulary Frodo struggled through filtering and picking words that would make for a good enough name and that was easy enough for Frodo to pronounce.

“ _Azrâkul,”_ Frodo finally decided. Thorin chuckled at the name.

“You’re going to name your dragon ‘ _sharpness?’”_ Thorin smiled.

“It suits him,” Frodo argued. “Do you know how sharp a Timberjacks wings are?”

“I don’t know if I want to find out.” Thorin looked nervously at the dragon.

“When they fly through forests their wings can slice through the treetops,” Frodo explained.

“I suppose it’s a fitting name then,” Thorin agreed. After a little bit of silence, as Frodo continued to gently stroke the soft area under the Timberjack’s jaw, Thorin finally spoke up again.

“I admire you for your tenacity, Frodo,” Thorin sighed. “I hate to admit it but...these dragons...if they all could see us the way...the way Azrâkul sees us—” Frodo smiled at Thorin’s use of the new name “—they may very well prove to be useful allies for us.”

Frodo gave a hesitant smile up to his uncle, who was anxiously avoiding his nephew’s gaze.

“That doesn’t mean they don’t still scare the living daylights out of me. That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop being… paranoid about dragon-related injuries and deaths. But perhaps… I’m starting to see things the way you do.”

Frodo couldn’t help but offer Thorin a full-on grin.

“I think Bilbo would have been very proud of you,” Thorin offered quietly.

“He would have been the same worried mess you’re being right now,” Frodo countered.

“Is it not the job of parents to fret over what trouble their children get into?” Thorin chuckled. Frodo’s heart skipped a beat. It had been a while since Frodo had heard Thorin refer to Frodo as his own child aloud, and each time he did Frodo felt a small burst of pride swell in his chest.

“Now may we please leave the cell for today,” Thorin asked nervously. “I think I’ve had enough of an up close and personal experience for today.” Frodo gave a small disappointed nod before bidding his dragon goodbye. They both left the cell and Azrâkul gave an upset noise.

“We’ll be back again soon enough,” Frodo promised as Thorin locked the door behind them. The hobbit gave an unpleased look at the lock as Thorin pulled out the key.

“Everything all right?” Thorin asked.

“It’s just...I am sad that he doesn’t get to go out,” Frodo sighed. “Such a sad way to live life.”

“You’ve already proven that he does not wish to leave,” Thorin commented.

“Still, to choose a life trapped in a cage?” Frodo muttered.

“Perhaps next time we’ll take him out of the mountain as you did not so long ago to let him stretch his wings,” Thorin suggested. Frodo looked up in bewilderment at his uncle.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Frodo quickly replied before Thorin could realize what he said and take it back. Thorin chuckled and pulled Frodo close to his side.

“I know you will,” Thorin sighed, squeezing Frodo’s arm. “You know...that last time when you had the  dragon outside…. I was terrified. I had no idea...I didn’t believe that it was possible to bond with a dragon the way Dís had explained to me. The entire time I watched you and that dragon all I could think about was how easy it would be for this dragon to tear you to pieces.”

Frodo remained silent as he watched Azrâkul get settled in his cage for the night.

“When I saw you today…” Thorin trailed off when Frodo didn’t answer. “I saw the unspoken agreement between you and the dragon, the mutual trust you’ve lectured me about, time and time again. I’m still scared beyond belief, but I think I’m beginning to understand.”

Frodo’s stomach dropped. He had been beginning to lose any hope that Thorin would ever see things his way.

“What do you think?” Thorin turned to Frodo. “Should we go find the others?” Frodo nodded and followed alongside Thorin before glancing back at his dragon one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for everyone's continued patience with this fic! I'm excited to start getting into the meat of the story! (Now that we're nearly 140k into it hah~)


	17. Many Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to [zarabal](http://zarabal.tumblr.com) on tumblr for helping me out with some rough Khuzdul translations for this chapter! You should be able to hover your mouse over the Khuzdul words in the story and get the translation (again thanks to [zarabal](http://zarabal.tumblr.com) for the code!!) If you're on a tablet/phone where that may be difficult I'll provide translations at the end.

It wasn't long before more trips down to visit the dragons were planned. Frodo suggested that the dwarves who had agreed to participate in acquainting themselves with the dragons should be broken down into smaller groups and visit at different times. This seemed like the best idea to keep from upsetting the dragons too much. However, by request of Thorin—and supported by Dís—Frodo was often not involved in these visits.

The dragons were starting to be taken off their sedatives and they were growing restless. The regular training sessions with the younger dwarves and the dragons had nearly ceased altogether. Instead, a few of the young dwarves were also introduced to the dragons and told how to convince the dragons they were trustworthy.

Now that this dynamic was beginning to change within the community, it became clear that a meeting where they could discuss things properly needed to be held.

Frodo rarely attended, let alone participated, at most of Thorin’s meetings which concerned the state of their people. Frodo knew it was Fíli and Kíli’s place to be involved in their politics, not his. When Bilbo was still alive, Frodo attended as often as Bilbo did, but as he grew a little older he noticed some of the dwarves’ disdain for the hobbits attending. The meetings were mostly boring anyway, so Frodo didn’t feel like he was missing out on much when he began skipping them.

However, this time when Thorin told him of the meeting and its subject matter, Frodo eagerly volunteered to attend. Thorin gave the hobbit a small smile.

“I was telling you, because I wanted to ask you to attend,” Thorin explained, “as our official dragon ambassador.”

Frodo gave his uncle a broad smile at the title Thorin had given him.

“Now you must remember, many of the dwarves—myself included—are still fairly skeptical of this proposition,” Thorin warned him. “They’re not going to agree very easily.”

“Are you really sure I should be the one making any kind of case?” Frodo’s confidence began to deflate. He remembered the contempt that a few of the dwarves held for the hobbits in the past. “Many of those who attend the meeting still see me as an outsider. A young, foolish outsider, at that.” Frodo gave an unsure shrug.

“You may be young, but you will have the support of several dwarves in attendance. You won’t be alone,” Thorin assured him.

“Will Aunt Dís be there?” Frodo questioned. In the past several months, she had healed quite a bit but she still wasn’t quite back to her normal self just yet. Even though she had returned to her normal duties, there were days she’d come home a few hours early, completely exhausted.

“Of course,” Thorin said with a nod. “She’ll be your strongest ally. Many dwarves will gladly follow her lead, should she take your stance on things.”

“Do you think it’ll be that easy?” Froo asked.

“You’re not trying to convince them of anything ground-breaking. They know what’s been going on. We just need to discuss the current direction of things and reassure the others. I just think...it would be good for you to be there. Make sure we’re going in the right direction,” Thorin assured him.

Frodo finally agreed to go and speak at the meeting. He spent several afternoons before the meeting consulting Ori about his Khuzdul and asked his opinion on topics that would most likely be brought up during the meeting.

“I doubt I’ll get to speak much during the meeting, but I want to make sure when I do, I’m contributing something important,” Frodo explained as they wrapped up the last lesson before the meeting.

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances to speak,” Ori assured him. “Thorin did ask you to come, he’s not going to let you be ignored after inviting you along to plead your case.”

“I still don’t think it’ll go over very well,” Frodo sighed. “That’s why I want to make my propositions in Khuzdul, if I can.”

“You’re afraid the others still see you as lesser than a dwarf…” Ori realized. Frodo gave a weak nod. “You must realize no one’s thought that in years. You’re Thorin’s ward, end of discussion. At the very least you don’t have to prove you still belong here. You may still have to fight to prove your ideas about dragons are ones to be seriously considered and not just the musings of a young naive child—which I don’t believe they are, of course— but you don’t have to make the case that you belong here. That fight has already been won,” Ori explained.

Frodo gave his friend a relieved smile. It was nice to hear those things from Thorin or Dís or one of his cousins, but he figured they _had_ to say those things about him because he was family.

“Well, in that case, do you think I have a shot at convincing them about the dragons?” Frodo asked.

“You’re already starting to bring Thorin around to the idea aren’t you?” Ori gave him an encouraging smile.

“I suppose,” Frodo answered. “I mean I have been down to see Azrâkul several times with Thorin, when the others aren’t around. I would say it means something. A year ago he would have never…”

“If Thorin’s being agreeable, I say it’s very possible,” Ori encouraged the hobbit.

“I hope so,” Frodo nodded.

“Let me know how it goes,” Ori told him as they finished up for the afternoon.

“I’ll keep you updated,” Frodo promised, collecting his things.

“Good luck, Frodo,” Ori wished him. Frodo thanked him and they went their separate ways.

When Frodo arrived home he found Dís poring over some documents, looking exhausted.

“Hello,” Dís greeted “I thought you were with Fíli and Kíli today.”

“No, I picked up another last minute Khuzdul lesson with Ori,” Frodo explained as he came over to the kitchen table and set his things down.

 _“ Jalatanakhi gilkhal? _” Dís asked in Khuzdul with a small smile.

 _“ Ganarmi galakh,” _ Frodo replied in his best Khuzdul accent. Dís chuckled.

“Was this lesson to prepare for tomorrow's meeting?” Dís asked as her gaze returned to some of her documents.

“I’ve translated everything I want to say in tomorrow’s meeting into Khuzdul. I feel like they’ll be more willing to listen if I speak your tongue.”

“You worry too much,” Dís sighed. “They’ll listen to you regardless. You’re part of our family, which makes you worth listening to.” Dís gave a smug smile.

“Doesn’t stop me from being nervous. Besides, I would still like to earn their respect on my own. Many of the council members still probably think of me as a child,” Frodo explained.

“I know,” Dís sighed with a soft smile. “You’ll do fine, I know it,” Dís assured him.  “By the way, I figured I might make you one of your favorite meals tonight as a ‘good luck’ gesture for tomorrow. I picked up some things to make you mushroom soup.”

“Really?” Frodo grinned.

“Bilbo’s own recipe and everything,” Dís told him proudly.

“Thank you, Aunt Dís,” Frodo sighed and Dís smiled softly at him.

“Go put your notes away and get washed up and we can start if you’d like,” Dís said as she straightened her things and Frodo quickly hurried upstairs to put his things away.

**x**

After dinner, Dís waited until all the boys had gone to their rooms for the evening. Thorin made two cups of tea and brought them over to sit next to Dís. She gladly accepted a mug.

“Are you prepared for the meeting tomorrow?” Dís asked.

“Yes,” Thorin nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“Frodo’s worried sick about it,” Dís noted.

“He doesn’t seem that nervous,” Thorin countered before blowing on his own tea and sipping it cautiously. “If anything he seemed enthusiastic about tomorrow at dinner tonight.”

“Because he puts up this facade around you,” Dís explained. “Ever since you began treating his opinion on the dragons as valid—Mahal only knows how that happened—he’s matured quite a bit. I mean, there’s the subconscious maturing he’s done, but also consciously he’s forced himself to mature. Especially around you.”

“That’s hardly surprising, Dís,”  Thorin rebuked. “He’s nearly twenty...he’s not far from coming of age for hobbits,” Thorin continued.

“He’s nineteen. He still has more than a decade ahead of him yet. Don’t let him grow up too fast on me,” Dís chuckled.

“Hasn’t that been your argument all along? That he’s growing up and maturing and I should let him?” Thorin frowned in confusion. Dís sighed.

“No, Thorin. He has matured but he’s still a child. A child playing at being an adult.”

“I never know what you want from me,” Thorin growled. “One moment I coddle him too much and don’t let him grow up and the next I’m making him mature too fast—I’m treating him too much like an adult now?” Thorin scowled.

“I’m only saying it’s a drastic change to adjust to in such a short amount of time. Suddenly, after years of treating him as a child, you thrust the responsibility of petitioning the council by himself about the dragon’s involvement.”

“He won’t be alone. He has you, he’ll have Bofur—”

“Yes, and that’s fine but I know he still feels as if it is his responsibility alone. Did you know he was with Ori all day today reviewing his Khuzdul? He’s trying his absolute hardest to make sure it goes smoothly and I’m sure part of it is just trying to gain your approval.”

“He...he doesn’t have to fight for my approval,” Thorin muttered.

“Just make sure Frodo knows that. Be sure to show him your support during the meeting too. _You_ have to let him know he’s not alone,” Dís encouraged Thorin.

“Of course I will. I haven’t meant to make him feel solely responsible for arguing in favor of the dragons,” Thorin sighed.

“That might ease his mind a little if you’d let him know that tonight.” Dís sipped at her warm tea.  

“I’ll see if he’s still awake.” Thorin pulled himself off the sofa. Thorin went and prepared himself another cup of tea as well as making a second cup for Frodo. He carried the mugs up the stairs and carefully balanced them as he knocked gently on Frodo’s door.

“Come in,” Frodo called softly. Thorin pushed the door open to see Frodo still sitting up in bed with Bilbo’s journal that detailed Bilbo’s mother’s encounters with the dragons splayed out on his lap.

“I brought you some tea. I made Aunt Dís a cup and thought you might want some?” Thorin offered the mug to Frodo. Frodo closed the journal and smiled as he accepted the mug.

“Thanks,” Frodo muttered as he gently blew on the piping hot tea to cool it down.

Thorin gave a small smile as his eye caught the journal. He was glad that Frodo could appreciate it and looked through it often. Before Frodo inherited it, it sat idly on the bookshelf in Thorin’s room. Even though Frodo now kept the journal, sometimes nostalgia and grief still overwhelmed Thorin and he would go borrow the journal out of Frodo’s room. Without even reading it, Thorin found running his fingertips across the inked words comforting. Frodo must have also found that same comfort in poring over them as well.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Thorin asked, his eyes moving from the journal back to Frodo.

“A little,” Frodo admitted.

“I—your aunt was telling me how much you’ve prepared for this meeting,” Thorin continued.

“I just want to be sure in what I’m saying,” Frodo explained. “I want the others to agree and to help us find some solutions to what we’re going to do with the dragons.”

Thorin smiled warmly as he listened to Frodo talk so fervently about his cause. He was reminded of Bilbo and how obstinate his hobbit had been.

“Frodo,” Thorin started. “You’ve matured in such a short amount of time. I’m very proud of you, despite our...disagreements in the past,” Thorin chuckled softly. “I just don’t want you to feel as if you must mature all at once. You’re still young as far as hobbits go...and I don’t want to seat you with undue stress. Don’t feel as if this meeting rests on your shoulders alone. You do not even have to speak if you don’t want to. I only meant to have you there to support the idea...to support me. You give me strength...as Bilbo once did.”

Frodo’s hands curled around his mug as he looked down at his tea with a blush.

“I’m glad…” Frodo murmured. “But it’s a little too late for me to back down now. I already have planned out what I want to say.”

“You do?” Thorin raised his eyebrows, remembering the extra Khuzdul lesson Dís had told him about. “You are quite prepared then. I look forward to hearing you speak tomorrow. Remember I must be impartial in matters tomorrow, but I love you and you have my support.”

“That’s...Thank you,” Frodo smiled. “Thank you for listening to me and...and believing in me.”

“All right, I’ll let you get your rest,” Thorin decided with a sigh. He stood up and leaned over and placed a kiss on Frodo’s forehead. “You’ll do wonderfully tomorrow.”

“Good night, Uncle Thorin.”

“Good night, Frodo.”

**x**

“You nervous?” Kíli asked Frodo with a grin as they all made their way to the main hall for the meeting. Frodo gave an exasperated sigh.

“Kíli, knock it off,” Dís scolded her son. “Let’s see you stand up to the council and propose your highly controversial ideas.”

“Ah, the others aren’t going to be too rough, I’m sure.” Kíli nudged Frodo. “You’ll be fine.” Frodo groaned. If he’d had a silver piece for every time he had heard that the past week he’d be a rich hobbit. He wished that he _knew_ that he would be fine.

They were among the first to arrive, as they usually were with these meetings. Frodo hadn’t been to many of these meetings, but he’d been to enough to know what to expect. Soon Balin and Dwalin would arrive with their own list of topics to address and they would talk them through with Thorin beforehand.

When they arrived, Balin handed Frodo a small package. He nodded as a gesture to suggest Frodo open it. Frodo smiled to see a small assortment of cookies when he peeked inside.

“I know you can get hungry at these meetings if they go too long,” Balin offered. Frodo smiled and thanked the elder dwarf. Balin was as sweet as ever towards Frodo even though he was no longer a child. “Don’t let Dwalin near them though, he nearly ate the entire rest of the batch.”

“I left the lad plenty,” Dwalin scowled in response to his brother’s accusation.

“You never bring us cookies,” Kíli sulked when he saw the cookies.

“Yes, where are our cookies, Balin?” Fíli protested.

“You two aren’t growing hobbits. But maybe Frodo will share,” Balin suggested and Frodo made eye contact with his cousins and shook his head slowly with a smile.

“Damn it all, Balin loves Frodo more than us,” Kíli complained. “We’ll have to suffer through.”

“Yes, I believe you will,” Frodo agreed through a mouthful of cookies.

Other dwarves began to file into the meeting slowly and eventually they all took their seat. Frodo packaged up his cookies and put them away for the time being.

Thorin quickly called the meeting to order and Frodo could sense the eyes of nearly everyone glancing at him in confusion since he wasn’t usually a part of these meetings.

Before any talk about the dragons was brought up, Dís addressed the usual issues happening within the markets and guilds of Ered Luin. Thorin then asked about the reconstruction efforts and the mines after the earthquake nearly seven months ago now. The conversation switched between Khuzdul and Westron and Frodo was able to keep up despite struggling a little bit.

With the talk of reconstruction, the topic of dragons was naturally broached.

“Are the rumors true? Are we really going to start using dragons to help us with such matters?” one dwarf asked in Khuzdul. “It seems foolish to me to risk the safety of those who work alongside them.”

“It’s been brought to our attention that these dragons may be more help to us than we realize,” Thorin replied in Westron. “The issue was meant to be discussed tonight. The idea was brought to us by Bofur who works the mines. He believes that they could be helpful. They haven’t been used yet, but Bofur has been leading meetings down at the training fields to familiarize some volunteers with the dragons. There are those who believe if the dragons are familiar with us they are able to be tamed.”

Frodo’s stomach leapt into his throat, sensing it was nearly his time to speak. He mentally went over the speech he had practiced with Ori.

The council now turned towards Bofur, who was also in attendance. As far as Frodo could remember Bofur avoided these meetings as much as he could afford, so Thorin must have asked him to be there as well to testify about the dragons.

“I’m only being practical,” Bofur began. “I saw what was possible when we trusted dragons to help us when we suffered the mine collapse after the earthquake. If they’re able to move rock, I figure they’re able to do a lot more. If we ally ourselves with the dragons I’d wager it’d make all our lives easier. The idea actually came from our own young Master Baggins, of course.”

Now the eyes in the room turned to Frodo, a few dwarves looking as if they finally figured out why Frodo was there.

“He’s the one who managed to make the discovery that these beasts are much tamer than we gave them credit for,” Bofur continued.

Frodo cleared his throat and sat up straighter, feeling Thorin’s eyes land on him as well.

“I know that we’ve been at war with dragons for as long as any of us can remember,” Frodo started shakily, in his accented Khuzdul. “The dragons have caused us great devastation and anyone with any sense would want to fight back against these animals that instill such terror into our hearts. But I have seen the more docile nature of these animals. Their initial instinct is not to seek and kill us, but to protect their own. I believe that’s a feeling that we can relate to—to protect our own,” Frodo continued. Looking around the room, a few dwarves nodded in agreement with Frodo’s statement. “It may seem impossible, but with work and dedication, it’s possible to gain the dragons’ trust, which I believe has already begun to be established.”

“They helped with the mining collapse but the dragon used nearly killed Dís,” another dwarf protested.

“The dragon was forced into an unfamiliar setting. With slow-progressing adjustments the dragons would not be so easily spooked,” Dís protested. “I would gladly do it again without hesitation. The dragon saved my son and thirteen other miners.”

Thorin spoke up to ask for reports from a few of the dwarves who had volunteered to learn about the dragons and try to discover the tamer side to the beasts. The dwarves described in detail what their visits included and how long they’d been doing this. Fíli supplied that the lessons with the young dwarves had stopped altogether. He continued to explain that these lessons only promoted violence against the dragons and that was the last thing they needed to communicate to the beasts if this was to be successful.

“So what now?” another dwarf asked. “Our young will no longer be trained for combat against dragons? This will only weaken us. This won’t help us at all.”

Before Thorin could begin to postulate an answer the the dwarf’s question, Frodo spoke up.

“I suggest that the young pupils studying at the training fields should now begin to learn how to bond with a dragon and how to trust a dragon,” Frodo offered. “They should still be taught defensive skills, of course, but not against dragons. We’re trying to build trust with these dragons, and they’re only just beginning to learn that we’re not the threat we’ve always been either.”

Discussion continued for a while as Frodo valiantly argued against those who doubted the idea of befriending the dragons. Dís and Bofur assisted Frodo’s arguments as much as they could. By the end of the meeting a few more dwarves were starting to come around to the idea.

After the meeting wrapped up, Bofur came over to talk to them, his cousin, Bifur,  at his side.

“You did really well tonight, Frodo,” Bofur commended the hobbit. Frodo mumbled a thanks to the dwarf. “I think we’ll win them over in time, don’t you?”

“I hope so,” Frodo smiled sheepishly.

“I’ve already won Bifur over,” Bofur explained. “He’s come down with the others a couple time and he’s even grown attached to a dragon of his own down at the paddocks.”

“Really?” Frodo perked up. Bifur nodded as he began to sign excitedly in iglishmêk and Bofur quickly translated.

“He wants me to tell you that he was excited to learn the dragons weren’t hostile. He’s always disliked the idea of keeping the dragons trapped here in order to use them in training,” Bofur said. “We’ve been down there at least once a week since this whole thing has started. There’s an old Changewing down there he’s grown quite fond of. Anyway, he was wondering if the next time you go down to see your dragon we could join you?” Bofur requested.

“That would be nice,” Frodo smiled at them. “What do you think, Uncle Thorin?”

They had also visited the dragons at least six or seven times since the initial visit with the others. The past two times Thorin had allowed Azrâkul outside the mountain to stretch his scarred wings. They had discussed allowing it out in the caged training area but decided it was probably a bad idea, considering the dragons most likely associated that area with the training and the attacks that came with it. Thorin still disliked the idea of allowing the dragon out somewhere it could not be contained, but Frodo convinced Thorin that it  had been done before and they were able to get the dragon back inside again.

Of course that idea really only applied to Azrâkul so far. They weren’t sure how the other dragons would react to being let outside the mountain.

“Perhaps,” Thorin replied, his jaw clenching. “We’ll have to see,” Thorin answered brusquely. “We’ll let you know when would be a good time to go down.”

The meeting wrapped up and the dwarves began to disperse.

“Why wouldn’t you allow us to go down with Bofur and Bifur soon?” Frodo asked with a frown and Thorin sighed.

“Frodo, we know how Azrâkul reacts when we bring him outside the mountain. If we go down there with Bofur and Bifur, Bifur will want to take his dragon out too. You heard how he disliked how the dragons are kept, just as you are. I know we still need to discuss the living conditions of the dragons. I don’t like the way they’re kept down there now any more than you do. But one step at a time, all right?” Thorin continued. “Anyway, there’s a reason we haven’t taken any other dragons outside the mountain. They’re unpredictable, especially with the dragons off the sedatives,” Thorin explained.

“I know, but we’ve got to give them a chance at some point,” Frodo argued. “Bifur’s dragon would be a perfect chance to test another dragon out of its cage. It’s an older dragon, I doubt it’d give us much trouble.”

“How do you think the dragons would react to one another?” Thorin questioned. “We’ve never had the dragons out together, not even during training.”

“I can’t imagine they’d be too hostile towards one another,” Frodo shrugged.

“You can’t know that for sure,” Thorin countered.

“No, I can’t,” Frodo admitted.

“We’ll see how things work out, all right?” Thorin offered and Frodo nodded.

**x**

Frodo thought over Bifur and Bofur’s proposal, trying to decide on something that would be agreeable to Thorin. He fidgeted anxiously after setting the table one morning as Thorin and Kíli made breakfast.

“I’ve been thinking about Bifur’s dragon,” Frodo told Thorin hesitantly.

“Bifur’s got a dragon now?” Fíli asked as he helped set the table.

“He and Bofur told us just after the meeting the other night,” Frodo explained. “He wants to go down to see it and probably start the same arrangement we have with Azrâkul. Anyway, I was thinking of a solution before we decide what to do.” Frodo turned back to his uncle.

“Yes, what about it?” Thorin asked, concentrating on balancing the plate of eggs as he brought it over to pile onto his plate.

“Maybe before we give Bofur and Bifur a solid answer we could go down without them. How many Changewings do we have?” Frodo asked.

“Just the one,” Thorin replied.

“So we should know which dragon is Bifur’s. We can go down and gauge its temperament for ourselves,” Frodo explained.

“And I imagine you want to take Azrâkul out while we’re down there,” Thorin guessed. Frodo smiled bashfully.

“Yes, I mean...we’ll already be down there…” Frodo mumbled. “It’s been several weeks since we’ve been down there and let him out for a little while.”

“Oh, can we go?” Kíli asked. “I haven’t been down there in a while. After the meeting the other night I want to go down to see the dragons again.”

“Fine,” Thorin sighed with a small smile. He hated to admit it, but he was beginning to enjoy going down and allowing Frodo some time with his dragon outside of the cage.

“Hey, if you’re all going down there, I want to go too,” Dís insisted.

“Are you sure?” Thorin asked hesitantly.

“I’m fine, Thorin,” Dís snapped. “You and Frodo have been sneaking down to the dragons and haven’t told me until after the fact. I want to see Azrâkul out of his cage too, and don’t say I already have. The first time didn’t count because we were all so worried about seeing to it that Frodo was safe, I couldn’t even properly enjoy myself.”

Frodo blushed at her jab. It was true they’d avoided letting Dís know when they were going down to see the dragons recently. Thorin believed it was best to keep her in the dark because they knew she’d want to go and Thorin was still feeling extremely protective of her as she recovered. Frodo was merely thankful that for once Thorin’s worries were focused on someone other than him, but he did wish for his aunt to join them eventually.

“All right, only because the boys will be with us,” Thorin explained and Fíli was nodding in agreement. “Dwalin too,” Thorin insisted.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Thorin. I know you’ve been having him watch after me as if I were a child. I’ve healed now and I don’t need a chaperone.”

“He’s been doing it mostly of his own volition. He’s worried about you just as much as I am. You’re still blind in one eye and I know that takes getting used to. You may not have noticed but your reaction times have slowed. You need an extra pair of eyes with you. At least for the time being.”

Before Dís could argue, Frodo spoke up.

“It’s good to have Dwalin come. He still hasn’t made up his mind about the dragons and this could be another opportunity to convince him a little further,” Frodo explained.

“Hm, you do have a point, I suppose,” Dís admitted. “Dwalin can come along too.”

**x**

They were able to eventually arrange a trip down to see the dragons. Dwalin wasn’t very happy about it, but once he knew of their plans he refused to let them go on their own. Dís packed a bag, which smelled absolutely terrible.

“What’s that?” Frodo asked with a frown at the horrid stench as Dís slung the bag over her shoulder.

“A snack for the dragons,” Dís replied with a smug smile, as if the stench didn’t bother her at all.

“Gross,” Frodo chuckled as he moved away from the bag.

“That’s okay, Azrâkul will love me more than you,” Dís teased and Frodo smiled.

They all made their way down to the dragons’ cells. Before going to see Azrâkul the group looked through the dragon cages to find the Changewing Bifur had befriended.

“Over here!” Kíli called upon finally finding the dragon. Frodo hurried towards Kíli’s voice and peeked inside the cage that Kíli stood before. They all converged on the one cage to peer inside.

“I don’t see anything,” Dwalin commented.

“Even with one eye, I can see it,” Dís chuckled softly. “Look for its eyes.”

Frodo searched the dark cell and found the pair of glowing eyes. Dís pulled a fish from her bag and offered it through the bars of the cell in order to tempt the dragon closer.

“Camouflage,” Frodo noted. “It probably feels threatened by us. That’s why it’s hiding.”

“I don’t want to provoke it,” Thorin murmured. “We’ll have to come back with Bifur so it might feel more comfortable. We’ll just have to tell him we still have a long time before we know if it’s safe enough to take it out of its cage, or even interact with the other dragons, for that matter,” Thorin decided.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Kíli sighed. Dís frowned and returned the fish to her bag.

“So much for determining anything about the dragons’ compatibility,” Frodo sighed sadly.

“We’ll try again another day, okay?” Thorin gently squeezed Frodo’s shoulder. “Now, how about we go and find Azrâkul?” Thorin suggested. Frodo readily agreed and led his family down to his dragon’s cell.

As usual Azrâkul sat poised and alert, hearing the dwarves and his hobbit enter the dragons’ paddocks.

“Hey, there,” Frodo crooned with a smile as he opened the door to the dragon’s cell.

“Here, I’ll go open the gate outside,” Dís offered, holding her hand out to take the keys.

“You don’t need to strain yourself,” Dwalin grumbled, taking the keys before Dís could protest. “I’ve got it.”

Dís sighed and watched as Frodo coaxed the dragon out of his cage, the Timberjack carefully following the hobbit but mindful of the the dwarves. When they emerged into the sunlight, the dragon chirped happily and stretched his wings before taking off and swooping around the clearing just outside the gate, keeping low to the ground.

Frodo grinned broadly and hollered excitedly as he chased after the dragon, Azrâkul yipping playfully at his hobbit friend.

“It’s amazing,” Thorin muttered as he watched them.

“What’s amazing is that you’re watching this unfold and not fretting yourself silly,” Dís remarked.

“I’ve come to understand that this particular dragon would never allow harm to come to Frodo. I can sense the friendship this dragon harbors for him,” Thorin explained.

“I don’t care how much friendship you feel, they’re still dangerous. One slip up could prove deadly for Frodo,” Dwalin muttered. “The boy has turned you soft.”

Thorin remained silent and they continued to watch Frodo follow the dragon around the clearing.

“I am always taken by surprise by Azrâkul’s energy when he leaves his cage,” Frodo commented as he came over to the others.

“He’s left you winded and yet he still plays,” Dís commented.  

“It’s amazing how much stamina he has,” Frodo agreed as he sat down beside his uncle. “Have you thought anymore about about what we’re going to do with the dragons?” Frodo asked Thorin. Dís stood up and stretched and began to walk a little around the clearing. Dwalin kept an eye on her as he listened to the conversation.

“Yes, I’ve given it a little more thought.” Thorin nodded. “I’m still concerned by something that was said in the meeting,” Thorin sighed as he watched the dragon playfully jump after a squirrel.

“What?” Frodo asked.

“It was mentioned that this might weaken us. I can’t help but agree. Those who are deprived of training with the dragons will not be able to defend our home if we’re ever attacked by wild dragons.”

“Maybe we won’t have to deal with many dragon issues if we have these dragons as our allies?” Frodo suggested.

“That doesn’t help things. You remember when I first met you and Bilbo? We were there to defend you from the dragons that had settled just north of the Shire. If we hadn’t trained for that we wouldn’t have been able to help,” Thorin explained. “Our dragon allies wouldn’t have helped you in the Shire. We can’t exactly ally ourselves with every dragon in order to bring peace. It just isn’t possible. We’ve spent ages working with these specific dragons just for them to tolerate us. We can’t just go and make friends with every dragon.”

“It’s...yes, I know. What if...I mean, we’re using the dragons to help us with things here…” Frodo started. “Could we maybe...use dragons against dragons? Train them to help us maintain peace.”

“Do you honestly believe we can train dragons to fight against their own?” Dwalin asked. “If I’ve learned anything about these beasts is that they’re proud and loyal creatures. What motive would they have to help us out just because we’re friendly? Do you think they’d really fight against their own kind?”

“I don’t like the idea any more than you do,” Frodo admitted. “But it’s a solution.”

“How do you plan on implementing this?” Fíli questioned. “How would you train them to protect us?”

Frodo was silent for a little while as he thought Fíli’s question through.

“They’re loyal,” Frodo started.

“Loyal to us or to others of their kind? As Dwalin said, I don’t think they’d so easily turn against their own kind. What reason do they have to trust us—the ones who have attacked them for years—over their own kind?” Thorin asked.   

“There has to be something...it might just be time. Showing them we’re no longer a threat is something, but proving it isn’t just a rare happenstance is something else.” Frodo continued to ponder the puzzle.

“You’re lucky your dragon seems to be loyal to you right from the start,” Dwalin groused.

“Something in it sensed I was trustworthy, now we just have to replicate that,” Frodo argued.

“Hey, where did Dís go?” Thorin asked, looking over to his cousin.

“She got up,” Frodo noted. “I don’t know where she went, though.” Frodo looked over to where Azrâkul was now basking in the sun, sprawled out like a fat tomcat. The silvery scars on the dragon’s wings were visible in the sunlight and Frodo smiled softly at how happy the dragon seemed to be, out enjoying the sunlight.

“Was the gate into the mountain open before?” Dwalin asked. Frodo got up and stretched, figuring he should join the quest to find his missing aunt. He was sure she hadn’t gone far. Maybe she just wanted a quiet moment to herself.

“No,” Fíli frowned.

“Maybe she was feeling ill and headed back?” Kíli suggested.

“Why wouldn’t she say anything?” Thorin gave an exasperated sigh.

“Why would she leave the gate open?” Fíli asked as he suddenly began to realize what she might be up to.

Before they could discuss any further possibilities, a noise drew their attention back to the gate. A low growl announced Dís’ appearance with the Nadder at her side, blinking rapidly in the sunlight.

“What in Durin’s name...?” Frodo heard his uncle utter. Turning to look in the direction Thorin’s attention was directed, Frodo realized what had made Thorin freeze.

Dís was standing outside the gate slowly backing up as she led the Nadder along. Her hand was extended, her open palm leading the dragon further outside the mountain. The breath caught in Frodo’s chest, panic rising as he quickly looked towards his own dragon, who was no longer lazily lounging in the spot of sunshine. Azrâkul now stood at attention, his eyes locked on the new dragon in the clearing.

“ _Dís!”_ Thorin exclaimed and Frodo grabbed Thorin, fingers digging into Thorin’s forearm to stop him from making any more noise that could startle the Nadder.

Dwalin cursed under his breath and Frodo wanted desperately to go to his dragon. _What was Dís doing?_

Azrâkul let out a few unsure trills before inflating to his fullest height and spreading his wings in an impressive show of power. It took Frodo’s breath away. He always forgot how massive the dragon’s wingspan was. Dís slowly turned away from the Nadder and began to talk soothingly to Azrâkul as well as the Nadder. Azrâkul began to deflate as he felt somewhat comforted by Dís’ presence. Frodo started to move towards his dragon and it was Thorin’s turn to hold Frodo back.

“Don’t,” Thorin breathed, “you don’t want to get in the middle of this.”

“Aunt Dís _is_ though!” Frodo hissed. “Fíli—!” Frodo looked to his cousin for assistance. Fíli only shook his head, his eyes fixated on his mother.

The Nadder growled softly, seemingly talking to the other dragon. Azrâkul gave a few high pitched nervous snarls. Time seemed to stand impossibly still as they all watched the two dragons with baited breath. After another string of growls and chirps between the two dragons, Azrâkul finally deflated, drawing in his wings to slowly pace forward. The Nadder’s nostrils flared as Azrâkul approached, but it didn’t seem to be defensive or aggressive towards the other dragon.

“I think it’s okay,” Frodo muttered. “Aunt Dís is okay, the dragons...they don’t seem to mind each other at all,” Frodo commented. “I’m going down there.”

Thorin reached for Frodo again, his grip tightening on the hobbit’s shoulder.

“Trust me. Trust Dís.” Frodo turned back to his uncle and pulled the dwarf’s hand off of his shoulder. Thorin reluctantly let go as Frodo carefully made his way down to the dragons. Dís spotted him coming towards them and smiled. The Nadder seemed a bit spooked by Frodo’s presence and Dís reached up to stroke the dragon just under its jaw. It immediately relaxed, but still kept a keen eye on Frodo.

Azrâkul lowered himself to Frodo’s level as the hobbit approached him and Frodo spoke soothingly to his dragon.

“What are you doing?” Frodo asked quietly as he gently stroked Azrâkul’s jaw as well. “How?”

“I told you that it wasn’t fair that you and your uncle were sneaking off to see the dragons without me. I planned my own trips,” Dís explained. “I spent some time of my own down here acquainting myself with this dragon...isn’t she beautiful?” Dís looked back to her own dragon.

“Is...Is this the Nadder that helped you down in the mines?” Frodo asked. “The...one who injured you?”

“She is,” Dís nodded. “I think we’ve come to understand each other very well.”

“How did you know it would be all right to bring her out here with Azrâkul?” Frodo asked.

“I didn’t,” Dís shrugged.

“You did this all on a mere guess?” Frodo asked incredulously.

“The dragons are somewhat familiar at least with each other's scents from being kept in the same vicinity,” Dís explained. “I didn’t figure they would be aggressive with those they’re familiar with. At least their scent. Curious, yes. But, aggressive, no. You and Thorin wanted to know if they would be aggressive towards one another. There’s your answer.” Dís looked towards the two dragons, who were inching together and sniffing at one another. “It would have taken too long for your uncle to feel safe enough to allow two dragons together without cell walls separating them.”

Frodo’s lips quirked upwards, glancing back up to the hill to where Thorin, Dwalin, Fíli and Kíli were perched attempting to decide if they should intervene or not.

“What now?” Frodo asked.

“Progress,” Dís suggested. “I think this is a very big step towards progress. More cases like Bifur and his dragon should be investigated. At least I think more dwarves should be paired with dragons before more introductions between other dragons. I think this bond makes things a little easier, don’t you?”

Frodo smiled broadly as he gently stroked Azrâkul’s neck and looked at his aunt’s dragon.

“I can’t believe the Nadder has bonded so well with you,” Frodo remarked. “I was afraid that Azrâkul’s case was one of a kind. That other dragons wouldn’t be capable of the same bond.”

“I was afraid of that too,” Dis commented. “I had no idea if she would fly off or if she’d actually stay.” The Nadder seemed to lose interest in the Timberjack and gently butted against Dís’ shoulder. Dís chuckled and patted the dragon, handing it a fish she had brought along.

“That’s was what the fish were for,” Frodo remarked. “As a safeguard?”

“Something of the sort,” Dís nodded.

“I think she would have stayed even without the fish,” Frodo encouraged his aunt with a soft smile.

“Thank you, but I’m not so sure. I can’t imagine any dragon willingly sticking around to continue to live in those cages. Except for Azrâkul, but we’re still not sure if he can fly very far with his wings injured.” Dís sighed. “We’ll work with Thorin to figure out better housing conditions for the dragons as we make progress. I think it’ll be a while before we allow for communal living with the dragons, but maybe we can start to make the cells more like...the stables we have for the rams and ponies just outside the front gates. I’ll talk to Bofur next time I’m down near the mines. He and Bifur might have some ideas.”

“I think that’s a good start,” Frodo agreed.

They were startled when the dragon’s both perked up and they turned to see Thorin cautiously approaching them. Under both of the dragons’ scrutiny, Thorin froze and held his hands up as a sign of peace. He stared wide eyed at his sister and nephew, silently pleading with them to call their dragons off. Azrâkul seemed to back off readily enough, recognizing Thorin from their past visits. The Nadder, however, was still posed and alert, staring at Thorin with large golden eyes.

Dís softly talked to the dragon, her words flowing between Westron and Khuzdul as she tried to soothe the dragon and assure her that Thorin was not an enemy. Finally the Nadder seemed to deflate, but her keen eyes were still watching Thorin carefully.

“If you’re both done risking your lives, can we wrap it up out here?” Thorin asked in a level voice, carefully watching the Nadder at Dís’ side. Frodo looked to Dís. He knew Azrâkul had probably had enough time outside but Frodo wasn’t sure if Dís wanted to keep the Nadder out any longer.

“Probably for the best, hm?” Dís agreed, looking back to the Nadder.

“We’ll continue our work with the dragons when I’m actually expecting it,” Thorin told them cooly, still nervously eying the dragons. Dís gave a humble smile and nodded in agreement.

Luckily, it was easy enough to return the dragons to the mountain. The Nadder seemed a little stubborn in returning to the mountain but seeing that the other dragon was willingly returning eased her resolve to stay outside.

Frodo smiled sadly as he bid goodbye to his dragon. He could only imagine the possibilities as they continued to bond with the dragons and how this would change their community forever.

**x**

Bilbo was beyond pleased with his agreement with the bargeman as it meant his life in the mountain had become a little more comfortable.

His clothes were finally clean and he himself smelled of lilac and honey from the scented soaps Bard had bought for him.

Bilbo was glad to learn of the birth of Bard’s second child, a boy they named Bain. He was happy that some of the treasure of the mountain that had been useless to him was at least helping a young family who needed it. He thought about his next request for Bard as he organized his things.

The spices he used to season his food were running low and he needed more thread to patch up some holes in his adapted dwarven wardrobe. The weather was turning cold again which meant the mountain would be even colder and Bilbo considered asking for some wool yarn and knitting needles. It had been quite a while since Bilbo had attempted to knit anything, but he had time on his hands to try to figure it out again.

He was probably going to need a new journal soon too, Bilbo thought as he shifted through a few stacks of journals he’d already acquired and filled.

As he got ready for the day he counted the days since his last rendezvous with the bargeman and determined he had another three days before meeting with Bard for this month.

 _That’s enough time to explore a little more of the highest levels of the mountain and come back before I go to meet him,_ Bilbo thought to himself.

He reviewed his notes and maps from the last time he’d been out exploring to decide where to start. After a little more planning, Bilbo packed a few things, including his journals and charcoal. Once he had double checked everything, he left his chambers and made his way out of the Royal Wing to find Minty.

“Hello, Daisy,” Bilbo greeted the youngest dragon as he arrived at their family nest. The dragon chirped happily in response to Bilbo’s greeting. Minty got up expectantly at the sight of Bilbo with his scouting materials. Bilbo greeted the other members of Minty’s family before getting settled on Minty’s back.

“Good girl,” Bilbo murmured softly. “We might be gone a day or two,” he informed the dragon and her family. “I don’t know how much is up there. I want to document it as much as I can.”

Minty purred softly in response.

“And then we’ll decide if I’ve  enough courage to brave the lower levels of the mountain,” Bilbo decided. “I don’t want to be stuck in a cave in or anything like that. But mapping has been a good...hobby to have nowadays, hm? But maybe I’ll take up knitting, who knows.”

Once he was settled, he spurred Minty on and the dragon took off, taking Bilbo up to the highest levels of the mountain. Bilbo slid down as he saw rays of sunlight streaming in from above. He smiled broadly, rushing off to see how close he could get to where the light was coming from. There was a small guardpost that looked out over the ruined city of Dale and further out to the town on the lake.

“Oh, I can’t believe it,” Bilbo laughed incredulously. “I wish I had known about this sooner. I may consider moving up here,” Bilbo teased. He stood there and took in the beautiful view and basked in the sunlight. The wind was a little brisk and Bilbo got a little lightheaded being so high up. Bilbo finally stumbled down from the watchpost and pulled out his latest journal and opened it up to the next blank page. He wandered around for a while sketching out how the different passageways and rooms connected to each other.

He rounded the corner into what seemed like a decent sized room and he froze. It took him a moment to process what he was seeing. Surrounding him were hundred-year-old corpses stacked against one another, some of their features grotesque.

Bilbo blinked rapidly trying to comprehend what had happened.

These bodies must have been from when Smaug had taken the mountain; they certainly looked old enough. These were the dwarves who were not so lucky. They must have been searching for a way out up here, which was why there were so many...and they had been trapped. Some of the dwarves there seemed to be wearing rich-looking clothes. Bilbo’s heart constricted as he wondered if any of these dwarves could have been related to Thorin. His stomach twisted unpleasantly and his head began to spin before Bilbo turned and vomited and then hurried out of the room. Bilbo took a few deep breaths but his breathing turned to hyperventilating.

Minty quickly found him, and gently nosed at Bilbo’s shoulder to try to comfort him. She whined softly when Bilbo let out a few stifled sobs.

“I know, I know,” Bilbo took a few calming breaths. “It’s silly...I mean they’ve been dead for over a hundred years, I know...but if Thorin...his family—if Smaug had never come...those dwarves could be his family!” Bilbo rambled.

Minty laid down beside Bilbo and sighed as Bilbo sniffled softly. They sat there in silence for a little while and Minty drifted off, snoring softly beside Bilbo. His thoughts were racing and jumping all over the place as he tried to calm himself down from the initial shock of it all.

He’d been here for years and this was the first real exposure he’d had to the dragon’s terrible history in the mountain. Bilbo thought of Thorin and wondered at how strong he must have been to witness all of this and stay strong enough to lead his people, on and off the battlefield.

Gently rousing Minty, Bilbo collected his things.

“I should like to go home now,” Bilbo said softly. “I don’t think I shall be going out to map things out anymore...or at least not for quite some time.”

Minty blearily chirped at Bilbo as she woke up and pulled herself to her feet. She allowed Bilbo to climb on before spreading her wings and taking Bilbo away from the upper levels.

**x**

That night Bilbo laid awake, thinking about the corpses he had seen earlier that day. All this time he’d lived in ignorance, never seeing many corpses. Before this, he had run into a few bodies, paid his respects and usually never returned to the area where he found them. Bilbo figured most had escaped the mountain and lived in exile with Thorin’s people.

The corpses piled up in that guardroom told a different story. Bilbo was terrified to check the lower levels now. If those dwarves couldn’t find an escape at the highest levels of the mountain, he knew there must be many that were trapped in the lower levels.

It made him nauseous all over again. Bilbo sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He was never going to get any sleep with his mind buzzing like this. All this thinking was doing him no good at all.

He padded softly out of his bed chambers to where Minty was resting just outside. She had refused to leave Bilbo after his traumatizing experience. Apparently she was a light sleeper as she sat upright with a bleary chirp when she heard Bilbo leave his room.

“I can’t sleep,” Bilbo replied to her concerned chirps. “I don’t know what to do to get these things out of my head. Maybe we can go for a ride?” Bilbo asked, as he secured his cloak around him. She dipped her head to allow him to climb onto her back. “All right, I’m ready.”

Minty spread her wings and took off. Bilbo let the scenery that flew by wash over him as he tried to clear his mind. Eventually Minty landed on one of the tall walkways to take a small break.

“Can we...can we go down to talk to Smaug?” Bilbo requested after a moment of contemplation. He wondered if he could get any sense of closure or assurance about what had happened if he talked to the dragon who had been there. Minty gave an unsure growl and Bilbo bargained with her until she finally agreed. The Hobblegrunt took off in the direction of the largest part of the treasure hoard where Smaug was sure to be. She landed when they spotted the telltale portion of scales peaking out of the gold. Bilbo uncertainly dismounted and started to make his way through the gold.

“Smaug,” Bilbo called to the dragon. His voice didn’t rouse the dragon. “I need to talk to you,” Bilbo continued as he crouched down in the mounds of gold, watching and waiting for the dragon to move. “Come on, you great ugly brute wake up.” Bilbo picked up a few gold coins and threw them in the direction of the dragon. Smaug twitched and Bilbo waited, but eventually the dragon settled again and the gold coins stopped moving.

“If you don’t wake up, I’ll just wait,” Bilbo decided as he sat firmly down in the pile of gold coins. It was silent for a moment, Bilbo’s calls still eerily echoing around in the great halls. Minty perched beside Bilbo to keep watch over him while he waiting for the Alpha dragon to notice their presence. Eventually, Bilbo pulled out the ring and turned it over several times in his hands. This seemed to agitate Minty a bit, her tail pushing against Bilbo’s thigh.

Finally the Alpha must have sensed they were there as gold coins began to shift and slide away from the great dragon. Smaug blinked a few times before his gaze finally fixated on Bilbo. Minty shrank away from the Alpha, but Bilbo stood up to confront Smaug.

“What is it you want?” Smaug finally asked as he gave an exasperated sigh.

“I need to ask you about the day you took the kingdom,” Bilbo replied, as valiantly as he could, carefully returning the ring to his vest pocket.

“What do you need to know?” Smaug looked irritated. Bilbo’s hand remained in his vest pocket while he continued to fiddle with the ring anxiously to remind himself that the dragon couldn’t injure him.

“Everything,” Bilbo responded. Smaug narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “I want to know how many dwarves you killed. I want to know why.”

“Well one of those questions will not bear an answer you’re happy with,” Smaug spoke calmly. “Many dwarves died the day I took the mountain. Most of them were roasted alive and I’m sure their ashes have disintegrated completely by this point.”

Bilbo swallowed thickly. That’s why there were never many bodies in the dragon infested areas. Where else had Bilbo been in the mountain where he could be stepping on potential remains? The idea sent a shiver straight to his core. Emotion seized his throat as he remembered the corpses in the guardroom and the potential that the dwarves that died were Thorin’s family...and could have been his own family through marriage.

“Y-You’re a monster,” Bilbo choked over his tears. There was nothing else to describe his feelings about the dragon better. He hated the dragon and everything he’d done as well as all the grief he had caused.

“This should not come as a surprise to you. I’ve never pretended to be anything different,” Smaug scoffed, brushing off Bilbo’s obvious distress.

 _“Why?”_ Bilbo demanded. “Why was it necessary to kill all those dwarves and deprive them of their home? Why did you attack this place?” Bilbo asked as he began to calm down. However, he still struggled to hold back tears. “Did you hold a grudge? Was it simply a home for you? Was it necessary for you to...you to do this?”

“It was not _completely_ selfish, I must admit,” Smaug boasted. “Dragons are drawn by great wealth. Or at least those of the Alpha species. Erebor had amassed a great deal of treasure. Its allure to act as a nest to the dragons who live under my reign was more than tempting,” Smaug explained coolly.

“Why couldn’t you remain where you were? There was no reason to displace and _kill_ so many innocent people!” Bilbo argued.

“I don’t see why you’re intent on arguing about something that happened more than a hundred years ago,” Smaug avoided the question. “They weren’t innocent, I’m sure of that. Even your mate, though he was young at the time. They all possessed the one condemnable trait: greed.”

“Are you no different?” Bilbo challenged the dragon. “You sought their treasure for the same reason they did: greed.”

“It was _not_ solely out of greed, you impetuous halfling!” Smaug roared. Bilbo could tell the dragon was becoming frustrated with him, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t leaving until he had proper answers for what the dragons did. He hoped some sort of catharsis would help him, but it didn’t seem to be soothing his anger or grief just yet.

“I was in search of a better life for the dragons,” Smaug finally started quietly. “Conditions in the north, where I came from, were poor and bitter. Most of my race...the Alpha race had died out—many of them slain. The dragons who remained were weakened without an Alpha to lead them...to provide for them.”

“So you took up that task?” Bilbo asked impatiently. “And you couldn’t provide for them in the north?”

“As I said, conditions were poor,” Smaug bit back a retort.

“Did you even stop to think about the destruction you caused on your path to achieve a safe place for your nest?” Bilbo snapped.

“When have dragons ever cared for another species than their own?” Smaug argued.

“Since now!” Bilbo declared. “Since right now. I have witnessed it in these dragons, they care for me more than I could ever imagine. I don’t believe any of these dragons would wish to see harm come to me or any of my kin.” Bilbo felt his heart leap as his tongue slipped, referring to the dwarves who had lived in this mountain as his own kin.

Smaug let out a roar of laughter.

“They only care for you because you bear the one ring of power,” Smaug said with a toothy smile. “If it weren’t for that trinket in your pocket you would have been dead many seasons ago.”

Bilbo’s throat began to close up and his heart felt heavy in his chest. He looked over to Minty, who looked like she wanted to be anywhere but confronting the Alpha of the nest. He didn’t want to believe that without the ring, he would just be another victim. Bilbo loved Minty and her family dearly...didn’t they feel the same? Or did he merely hold control of them as Smaug did? Did he only imagine obedience for affection?

“What’s in the past is done and there’s nothing that can be changed. Don’t trouble yourself so much,” Smaug seemed to comfort Bilbo the best he could. Bilbo wrinkled his nose in an attempt to hold his emotions at bay. He nodded and turned away, returning to Minty. He softly told her that he wished to return to his room and soon they were off. Bilbo could hear the Alpha dragon settle back in the pile of gold.

**x**

Bilbo’s discovery as well as his confrontation with Smaug still troubled him for days afterward. Even as he prepared to go meet the bargeman, his mind couldn’t stop racing at a persistent speed. It exhausted him completely.

He still despised everything that Smaug had done; however, Smaug had a legitimate reason for taking the mountain. Smaug had found a fortified nest, filled to the brim with treasure. To a dragon, this must be paradise. It was the perfect atmosphere for a nest of dragons. They flourished here.

It still infuriated Bilbo that the dragons had taken the mountain by force, but as Smaug had said: there wasn’t much he could do about it now. The best he could do about those he found in the guardroom would be to offer the dwarves a proper burial...or however the dwarves honored their dead.

Bilbo had never learned that part of their culture. It saddened him again to reminisce on the very short amount of time he’d had with the dwarves. They were a very secretive race and although Bilbo had lived among them for almost five years, he felt as if he knew next to nothing about them.

He decided he would never want to be disrespectful to the dwarves who died here. However, leaving them to rot didn’t seem like the most respectable thing to do either.

Bilbo thought through his options as he washed his face and glanced at himself in the looking glass. He looked exhausted and sickly. He probably hadn’t looked that bad since he had first arrived here. The worst of it was his hair, which had grown considerably over the years. Now at least he had been able to clean it, but he still disliked the way it made him itch. He thought about Thorin’s beautiful long hair and wondered how he managed to make it look so clean and regal. All Bilbo could see was an exhausted unkempt sickly hobbit in the mirror.

He was tired of living like this. He was tired of feeling like a feral animal, living in a place that was a grave to so many. In a fit of frustration and desperation, he gathered the scraggly hair at the nape of his neck and raised his knife and worked to cut off the excess hair.  Bilbo had hoped that it would have helped his appearance. Instead it made him look even more pathetic; the uneven cuts looked as if a child had a go at giving him a haircut. Bilbo gave a frustrated groan before brushing through it and trying to make it look as presentable as possible. When he finished, he braided the hair near his temple and attached Thorin’s bead at the end of it.

“Good enough,” Bilbo sighed.

He hoped that some time out of the mountain would do him some good. Bilbo mounted Minty and soon they were off to go and meet Bard at their usual rendezvous spot.

A little weight was lifted off of his heart as he felt the sunlight temporarily blind him. The wind was cold and although he was partially shielded by the dwarven helmet he continued to don on his trips out of the mountain, it was still a biting unforgiving wind that beat against his nose and cheeks.

They arrived and Bilbo positioned himself to keep an eye out for the bargeman. His fingers subconsciously traced the carvings on the hilt of his wedding gift from Thorin. It always seemed to soothe him. He was exhausted from losing so much sleep over his discovery of the corpses and he nearly drifted off into sleep.

Bilbo was relieved when he saw the familiar barge arrive at the edge of the lake. He watched as Bard made sure the boat was secure before jumping off of the barge and onto shore.

“Bilbo?” Bard called softly as he grabbed a knapsack from the barge and make his way up the bank. Bilbo removed his helmet and hesitantly revealed himself to the bargeman. Bard gave the hobbit a relieved look as he started to list everything he had gotten for Bilbo.

“Everything you asked for last month is in here, you can check,” Bard informed him, handing over the sack of items. Bilbo didn’t bother to open it up and take inventory.

“Thank you,” Bilbo nodded. He retrieved his small list of items he’d have Bard bring him next time as well as the small sack of unmarked coins to go along with it.

“Have there been any dragon fatalities as of late?” Bilbo asked curiously. He wondered if his deal with the dragons continued to hold true. Bard carefully pocketed the money as he shook his head.

“We are lucky to have you,” Bard explained. “Not a single injury in the past year since you made the deal with the dragons. They seem to steer clear of our town. Even the Scauldrons that live in the lake have given us a wide berth. I suppose we have you to thank for that.”

Bilbo went pale as he began to wonder what would happen should he die. Would the dragons no longer hold to their promise? According to Smaug, they only did his bidding—they only liked him—because of the ring he bore.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” Bilbo admitted with a tired smile. “Anyway, perhaps you can bring me a pair scissors next time,” Bilbo suggested when he noticed Bard eying his odd haircut as they talked. “The hair is getting too long for my tastes.”

“I would have you come home with me. Ingrid could help you trim it up,” Bard offered, kindly.

“I’d rather not risk it.” Bilbo gave a polite smile and shook his head.

“Are you all right?” Bard asked softly, changing the topic yet again. “You don’t look well.”

“I’ve had...a tiring few days,” Bilbo admitted. Bard hummed thoughtfully. “The thought had always been lying dormant in my mind...the bodies of those who lived there…I....found them the other day. Or at least I’ve found more corpses than I ever have,” Bilbo explained. “I stick to most of the dragon-infested parts of the mountain and there aren’t many...corpses lying around there. I’ve found the occasional body, but…”

“That must be terrible,” Bard commented softly.

“They were my husband’s people,” Bilbo sighed. “They were regal, dignified folk, if they were anything like him and I...I have a hard time not believing that any of those dwarves in there could be his kin. If things had gone poorly one of those bodies might have been him.”

“Your dwarf was from the mountain?  You’ve never told me.”

Bilbo gave a half smile to the bargeman and nodded.

“This mountain was once my husband’s...or so I’m told,” Bilbo shrugged. “He was heir to the throne. I didn’t even know that before I came here.”

Bard raised his eyebrows and stared in disbelief for a moment.

“How...how does the former crown-prince of the lost kingdom of Erebor happen to meet and...and marry a halfling from the Shire?” Bard asked incredulously. Bilbo blushed at Bard’s inquiry as he recalled his and Thorin’s first meeting and looking into Thorin’s piercing gaze as the alarm bells sounded all around them.

“It’s quite a long story and I’m tired,” Bilbo remarked as he hoisted himself up with his staff. He donned the helmet and retreated back to Minty. “I’ll tell you about it next time.”

“As always, you are quite the mystery, Master Baggins,” Bard remarked.

“I do hope that is a compliment, Master Bargeman,” Bilbo smiled as he boosted himself up onto the dragon.

“Oh, but of course.” Bard returned Bilbo’s soft smile. “I’ll see you in a month’s time.”

“Till then,” Bilbo bid the bargeman goodbye and Minty took off.

However, before Bilbo returned to the mountain he stopped Minty and decided to wander the countryside between the mountain and the river. He plucked different kinds of small wildflowers and weaved them together. Eventually he had a fair sized bouquet in his hands and he returned to Minty. Stowing them safely in his rucksack, he mounted the dragon and directed her towards the mountain.

Instead of taking Bilbo straight to the Royal Wing, Bilbo insisted on the dragon taking him to the higher levels. Finding the western guardroom again, Bilbo took a deep breath. He wouldn’t enter the room again, but he left the small bouquet of wildflowers beside the entrance. Bilbo gave a small moment of silence out of respect before turning towards the watchpost to take a look over the land as the sun was setting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
>  _Jalatanakhi gilkhal?_ \- Did it go well?  
>  _Ganarmi galakh_ \- Well enough. 
> 
> As always thank you for all of your never ending patience with this fic. Real life has been exhausting trying to balance work with a full time school schedule (as well as fighting against writer's block!!) I've recently handed in notice at my job to focus on schoolwork and finding other work in my field, but I'm also hoping it affords me some extra writing time! (~totally a responsible adult~ .....whoops) 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [hobbitunderthemountain](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com) and thank you so so much to my wonderful beta [Kate](http://anunexpectedjourney.tumblr.com) who always manages to find extra time in her busy schedule to look over my fic and catch all the sometimes ridiculous things I overlook. 
> 
> Throwback to the first chapter of this fic with artwork created by [Emery](http://ohtinuviels.tumblr.com/) for [chapter one!](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com/post/143432959533/ohtinuviels-i-got-suuuuper-behind-on) (Links have also been added all the way back there as well. Thank you, Emery!)


	18. Taking Flight

Over the next couple months the dwarves who had familiarized themselves with the dragons worked relentlessly to try to make the dragons’ cells as comfortable as possible. They attempted to create something more like the stables they had for the rams and ponies. 

They started by converting unused cells and renovating them into bigger, nicer areas for the dragons.  The next step would be to get rid of the caged-in training field and turn it into a more dragon-friendly area, but there was still discussion on how to do that. A few dwarves had been trying to resist these changes, in case things needed to go back to the way they were. 

There still wasn’t much they could do to turn the cells into a suitable living space without the possibility of harm coming to the dwarves or the other dragons, but it was a start. More dragon introductions began to take place and the dragons were starting to become less skittish around the dwarves and around each other. 

Even though all of the reconstruction had been completed from the earthquake over a year beforehand, the dragons were finally starting to be used in tasks around the mountain. Many dwarves were still extremely nervous around the dragons. The first few times dragons were used to help out in other areas, it hadn’t gone very smoothly. 

There were calls to keep the dragons locked away after those mishaps and Frodo felt incredibly frustrated by their impatience. 

“They’re still confused and unsure,” Frodo protested to Thorin. “We can’t just put a year of work behind us because their first time out didn’t go as smoothly as it could have.” 

“We have to consider the safety of the others,” Thorin gave a ragged sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose. This was the third time in the past two days Frodo sought to argue with him about this. Thorin tried to tell Frodo that he wasn’t going to call for any decisive action just yet, but Frodo continued to feel the need to plead his case. 

“No one has gotten seriously hurt yet,” Frodo explained. 

“Well…” Aunt Dís interjected from her spot in the living room, listening to their argument. Frodo looked over his shoulder and cringed, his eyes catching the scar tissue that cut across her face.  

“I mean, no one else has,” Frodo groaned. “And Aunt Dís has healed.” 

“I know, Frodo. But the dwarves are still nervous about the dragons, as they should be, and I’m at a loss as for what I can say to reassure either side,” Thorin gave his exhausted explanation. 

“If I can find something Azrâkul can help with maybe that’ll help. Using him should go smoothly enough if I’m there,” Frodo began to think. 

“There’s not much the Timberjack can do here in the mountain with his wingspan,” Thorin insisted. “Let me know when there’s a task suited to your dragon and I’ll happily oblige.” 

Frodo turned the idea over in his head for several quiet moments and Thorin was right. The Timberjack was suited mostly for flight and his dragon’s wingspan made it difficult for him to maneuver around the mountain as easily as the others. Frodo wasn’t even sure if his Timberjack had full capability to fly. He’d seen him glide around the clearing outside the mountain but rarely did the dragon go above the treetops. 

“Do you think...maybe…” Frodo started hesitantly. “Maybe I can go on a patrol with Fíli or Kíli soon with Azrâkul?” It was the only task outside of the mountain Frodo could think of that could truly utilize a dragon. However, he wasn’t sure if it would work or not with Azrâkul’s mostly limited flight, but it was worth a shot. 

“You know what happened last time you went on patrol,” Thorin replied with a small smile. 

“You mean the catalyst event that began to transform our entire society for the better?” Frodo offered brightly. 

“You almost died,” Dís got up from the living room and made her way over to the kitchen table where her brother and nephew sat. 

“No, I didn’t,” Frodo protested. “It doesn’t even have to be a long patrol. Gone for a day at most,” Frodo petitioned his aunt and uncle. 

“That still makes me nervous,” Dís muttered. “Perhaps my Nadder and I could accompany you?”

“That’s only cause for more worry,” Thorin sighed. “No, I only want one dragon out at a time for now, all right? Anyway, see how Fíli and Kíli feel about it,” Thorin decided. “Then maybe we should see how your dragon would react to traveling beyond his clearing before we arrange any patrols. Maybe your aunt can take you down there since she’s so eager.”

“No Dwalin to accompany us?” Dís asked, with a surprised look on her face. 

“No Dwalin,” Thorin conceded. “I’m sorry for keeping such a close watch on you for this long. I can’t help but worry.” 

“I know,” Dís muttered as she gently squeezed Thorin’s shoulder. 

“Don’t make me regret it. I still think you should take one or both of the boys with you,” Thorin suggested and Dís gave an exasperated sigh. Before she could protest that he was only substituting one babysitter for another, Thorin continued. “I only mean because they’ll be going with Frodo on patrol. They should know the dragon’s limitations and abilities.” 

Dís hummed skeptically, but agreed. 

Later that night at dinner Frodo was impatient to ask his cousins about a potential patrol with Azrâkul. As they sat down to dinner, Frodo excitedly broached the topic, trying to figure out how his cousins would take to the idea.

“Can the dragon really accompany us?” Fíli asked. “I didn’t realize it could fly properly.” 

“Oh, we should try. Your dragon hasn’t gotten a chance to help Ered Luin yet,” Kíli realized.  

“Thorin wants us to go down to the dragon pens and take Azrâkul out to see if it’ll be possible,” Frodo eagerly told his cousins. “Wouldn’t that be great to have a dragon with us on patrol? It could keep an eye out for any dangers, spot things we wouldn’t be able to see…” Frodo continued. 

“How are you going to know what it sees?” Kíli asked. “It’s not as if you can communicate with the dragon merely through your thoughts.”

“That’d be convenient,” Thorin muttered.

“No, but...I mean, he can make warning...sounds,” Frodo shrugged. “I’d know if something was wrong. We’ve got to give it a shot, at least.” 

“I’m not going to lie, I’d feel safer with my dragon around on a patrol,” Dís agreed. “Maybe after a patrol or two we can start to figure out how to best use them outside the mountain.” 

**x**

The next day Dís and Kíli were available during the afternoon and Frodo convinced them to go down to the dragons. 

“Your uncle hasn’t even been able to arrange for a patrol yet. He probably won’t be able to until the next patrol comes back in a week,” Dís sighed as she pulled on her cloak. “I don’t think he wants to schedule anything official until we know how Azrâkul does with his flying.”

“I know,” Frodo nodded. “We may need a little time before we know for sure.” 

“You sure you don’t want to wait for Fíli?” Kíli asked, adjusting his overcoat.

“If we bring everyone with us it’ll make him nervous,” Frodo shrugged as he secured his own cloak around his shoulders. “It’ll be easier with just the three of us.” 

“‘Amad, are you taking your dragon out?” Kíli asked as he opened the door. After securing her cloak, Dís reached for the keys hanging beside the cloaks. 

“I don’t think I will today,” Dís told him before heading out. “I’ll go and see her I suppose, but I don’t think I’ll take her outside today. Today’s about Azrâkul.”

“You should name your dragon,” Frodo suggested as Dís closed and locked the door behind her. She pocketed the keys and followed Kíli and Frodo away from the house.

“I suppose I could,” Dís considered the proposal. “You’re the one who’s so witty about names. Perhaps you should come up with a name for her.”

“Oh, they’re all going to be so boring if you let Frodo name all the dragons,” Kíli teased. “He literally calls his dragon, who has sharp wings, ‘sharpness.’” 

“All right, you come up with good dragon names then,” Frodo retorted.

“Maybe I will,” Kíli replied. The entire way there, Kíli mumbled possible names under his breath. By the time they reached the dragon’s paddocks Kíli had come up with at least twenty names Dís had turned down. 

“The name will come when it’s meant to,” Dís decided as she unlocked the door leading to the dragons. “Now in you get, both of you,” Dís nodded. 

Frodo led Kíli and then his aunt into the dragon’s habitation, quickly finding Azrâkul’s stall. 

“Ready to go, my friend?” Frodo greeted the dragon cheerfully. Azrâkul rumbled excitedly at the sight of the hobbit and patiently waited for the door to be unlocked. After Dís opened the door to the pen, she handed the keys to Kíli who went to unlock the outer lock that led outside the mountain. Frodo entered the paddock with his hand reached out to greet Azrâkul with practiced ease. 

Soon they were outside the mountain and Frodo smiled broadly as Azrâkul stretched his wings. Dís and Kíli watched from a distance as Frodo and Azrâkul began to play their usual games. Eventually, Frodo attempted to get the dragon to take flight by wandering further away to see if the dragon would follow him by flying. 

“Frodo! Not too close to the trees!” Dís called as he reached the tree line. “Stick to the clearing, please!”

Frodo groaned in frustration as he looked around trying to figure out how he could get Azrâkul to fly. 

“Up! You need to go up!” Frodo explained for the hundredth time. The dragon looked at him patiently waiting for Frodo to continue their fun and seemed a little confused as to why Frodo was so exasperated. Finally, an idea dawned on him. He knew it was stupid and reckless but if this didn’t work, Frodo was out of ideas and he was positive he’d never fully convince Ered Luin of the dragons’ worth. 

Scanning the nearby trees he pinpointed one with low-hanging branches. 

“Okay, Azrâkul,” Frodo started, “watch and learn, okay?” Frodo took off in the direction of the specific tree. He looked over his shoulder and sure enough Azrâkul made his way towards Frodo excitedly. As Frodo reached the tree he began to scramble up the trunk, grabbing hold of branches and climbing his way up. He could hear his aunt shouting at him from down below to get down from the tree immediately lest he got hurt. Frodo ignored her and continued up the tall pine tree. Once he was fairly high up and peered down through the branches. 

Azrâkul circled the base of the tree, whining in frustration.

“You have to come up here!” Frodo cried, trying to convince the dragon. Azrâkul still didn’t seem convinced as he attentively watched Frodo sway up in the higher branches. 

“Frodo, I swear to  _ Mahal, _ if you fall out of that tree, Thorin is never letting you out of the mountain again,” Dís called as she got closer, Kíli trailing anxiously behind. 

“It’s okay, Frodo, we’ll find another way for Azrâkul to help,” Kíli added. “Just get down before you hurt yourself.”

“He was just about to fly!” Frodo shouted impetuously. He was about to say he was fine up in the tree when a large gust of wind drowned out his words and furiously rattled the branches of the tree he was in. Frodo wobbled dangerously and fought to hold on to prove to his family that he knew what he was doing. He could hear Azrâkul growl nervously as the wind died down again. 

“You’re worrying your dragon, now come on,” Dís sighed, impatiently. “Down.” 

Before Frodo could call down to them again the branch beneath him wobbled as the wind picked up again and changed direction. Just as he thought he had regained his balance, his foot slipped and he desperately tried to grab hold of another branch to stop himself from falling. He heard a shout and Frodo was unable to catch himself. Before he could hurtle towards the ground, something seemed to catch him in a velvet-like embrace. He slid against the soft surface as the wind thrashed against his face. Frodo reached out for anything that he could hold onto and his hands felt scales and the short nubs of the spikes on his dragon's back. The velvet-like wings beat a couple times, jostling Frodo, as Frodo held on for dear life. The wings continued to beat furiously and soon they were touching down safely on the ground. Frodo finally loosened his grip on the dragon’s spines.

As he opened his eyes, he realized that Azrâkul had caught him mid-fall on top of his large wings by flying up to meet him. 

“Frodo!” Dís cried as she reached the two of them. “Durin’s Beard, you scared me to death!” 

“Yes!” Frodo cried, nearly forgetting about the terrifying fall he almost took. “You did it Azrâkul! That’s what I’m talking about! Did you see that?” Frodo turned to his cousin and aunt. “He flew! Properly!”

Azrâkul seemed to catch on to Frodo’s excitement and rumbled proudly as Frodo got to his feet. 

“That’s it, yes!” Frodo grinned when he saw the dragon seemed to understand how excited Frodo was. Frodo began to wave his arms like a dragon spreading its wings and taking flight. “Do this!” 

The dragon righted himself before he began to excitedly beat his wings. Dís and Kíli quickly dodged out of the way and the Timberjack lifted himself off the ground. Frodo continued to give thrilled shouts as the dragon ascended. Azrâkul surpassed the treetops and gave a pleased roar as Frodo cheered him on. 

The dragon began to fly further, testing out its dormant wings for the first time in years. 

“Mahal, he’s really flying,” Kíli breathed after making sure Frodo was all right. 

“I knew he could do it!” Frodo cried. 

“Just hope he comes back, right?” Kíli joked. Before Frodo could react to Kíli’s teasing the dragon appeared overhead once again, making his descend back into the clearing. Still a little unsure with the new range of motion his wings could accomplish, he misjudged his distance to the trees and took off the top portions of the trees closest to the clearing. 

Hearing the dragon approach, Dís had quickly pulled Frodo and Kíli away from the potential danger zone of falling treetops as Azrâkul made an ungraceful landing. 

Frodo hurried over to his dragon, winded but thrilled with a large grin plastered on his face. Azrâkul purred, sensing Frodo’s elation and pride in him. 

“That is  _ more _ than enough excitement for today,” Dís declared as she joined the hobbit and his dragon. Frodo conceded but looked back at Azrâkul. Deep down he wondered if there was some truth to Kíli’s teasing. The dragon was free to fly wherever he wanted now that they knew he’d made a full recovery. 

When they began to lead Azrâkul back, he made no attempts at escaping or anything of the sort, much to Frodo’s relief. After getting Azrâkul settled in his pen, they stopped by Dís’ Nadder before leaving.

“Kíli and I were able to come up with—and agree—on a name for her,” Dís informed Frodo. 

“Oh?” Frodo prompted curiously.

“Vírún,” Kíli proudly told his cousin. 

“The name belonged to a legendary Dwarven warrior known for her impressive battle skills as well as her diplomatic success,” Dís explained. 

“Not so unlike ‘Amad,” Kíli smiled brightly at his mother. 

“You flatter me.” Dís gave her son a wry smile. 

“Either way I think it suits her,” Frodo complimented them on the name choice. 

As they left the dragons’ stalls, Frodo anxiously wondered how Thorin would react if Dís’ reaction was anything to go by.

“So, exactly how much of this will we tell Thorin?” Frodo asked hesitantly.

“I’m wondering the same thing,” Dís said with a stoic look on her face.

“If he knows the full story, he’ll never let me on patrol with Azrâkul.” Frodo gave a defeated sigh. 

“You can’t be sure of that,” Dís muttered, her stony expression faltering a bit.

“Would  _ you _ feel safe letting me go on patrol after today?” Frodo questioned. 

“Depends, I suppose.” Dís raised her eyebrows. “If you continue to act like a complete fool, then no, I would not feel safe.” 

“Azrâkul was never going to take flight if I hadn’t—” Frodo protested.

“All right,” Kíli interrupted. “We can tell Thorin it was a success, right? We don’t have to say exactly what happened. Tell the truth and leave out the fact that Frodo fell from the tree, or that he was even in the tree to begin with,” Kíli postulated. 

“I still don’t know if I trust Azrâkul to accompany you on patrol,” Dís admitted. 

“All we need is a couple more practice runs,” Frodo pleaded. 

“Look, Frodo, I’m busy the rest of the week, I won’t be able to bring you down here,” Dís told him. 

“Kíli can take me.” Frodo looked to his cousin.

“I could definitely find the time this week,” Kíli readily agreed. 

“I suppose,” Dís shrugged and before Frodo could begin to celebrate, Dís continued. “As long as you agree to no more tree climbing,” Dís proposed. Frodo sighed and nodded in agreement. “And I want another dwarf accompanying you, preferably Thorin or Dwalin.” 

Frodo groaned. 

“I can handle it, ‘Amad,” Kíli protested. 

“You are capable of much and I trust you and I trust the dragon. I just feel safer with at least one other accompanying you,” Dís explained. “Either that or no dragon visits this week and you aren’t taking Azrâkul on patrol anytime soon,” Dís threatened. Frodo sighed in defeat. 

“All right.” Frodo gave in. “But we’re still not telling Thorin...everything, right?” Frodo asked and Dís gave an exhausted sigh. 

“No, we won’t. You weren’t hurt afterall. But I’m keeping the matter on a need-to-know basis. If Thorin needs to know, he’ll know,” Dís assured Frodo. “You know that after all of this, I don’t like keeping things from your uncle. I’m only doing this because somehow I still desperately believe that becoming allies with the dragons will be the best for us in the end, and the best way to accomplish that is through you. That doesn’t stop me from being livid with you for acting foolishly. From now on when you act—before you even breathe—I want you to think to yourself,  _ ‘Will Aunt Dís or Uncle Thorin be upset with me for this?’ _ If the answer is yes,  _ do not _ act on your impulse or I swear to Mahal, Frodo—” 

“All right, I understand,” Frodo insisted before Dís could continue. 

**x**

Before the week was out, Fíli had been able to schedule them on a patrol and Thorin had agreed to accompany Kíli and Frodo to visit Azrâkul again. When they let Azrâkul out of the mountain, the dragon merely wanted to play with Frodo once again and showed no interest in another flight. 

“No, come on, Azrâkul! Fly! Fly like you did last time!” Frodo cried, waving his arms to imitate the flapping of wings. 

“How did you get him to fly last time?” Thorin asked. 

“I dunno, I was doing this and he finally figured it out…” Frodo explained, avoiding his uncle’s gaze and shifted uncertainly. 

“Give him some time, perhaps? He should remember,” Thorin said as he took a seat on the ground to watch the scene unfold. 

“Maybe if I climb a tree?” Frodo meekly suggested.

“Absolutely not,” Thorin denied. “It’s dangerous to be up in a tree, especially around a dragon like this. Use a little common sense, Frodo. I swear to Mahal you’re determined to kill yourself.” 

“You sound just like Aunt Dís,” Frodo muttered.

Kíli gave his cousin a disapproving look as he shook his head. They spent the rest of the afternoon outside of the mountain with the dragon and eventually Azrâkul decided he would give flying another chance. They were about to give up for the day when the dragon lifted off from the clearing before disappearing above the treetops. They heard a proud roar and Frodo cheered in response. Azrâkul replied with another resounding roar. 

“How about that,” Thorin muttered as his eyes scanned the sky above them. “He can really fly.”

“See?” Frodo proclaimed, excitedly.

“This still doesn’t solidify an agreement to let the dragon go on patrol with you,” Thorin explained. “It still takes him awhile to figure it out. 

“I’m sure he’d know to follow,” Frodo protested. Before Thorin could reply, the dragon clipped the treetops at the edge of the clearing and landed, looking at Frodo expectantly. 

“Good job!” Frodo called to the dragon as he hurried over and showered Azrâkul with praises. 

“Mahal, that’s a danger too,” Thorin muttered to Kíli. 

“It is, but I still think having the dragon with us will help more than anything. The patrol Fíli scheduled for us is along the treeline and we’ll stick to that treeline to allow Azrâkul a chance to fly and land safely in a clear area, while we stick to the cover of the trees,” Kíli explained. 

“Smart thinking on your brother’s part,” Thorin commended. “Still doesn’t guarantee the dragon will want to fly or that he’ll be able to maintain your pace.”

“We can try, at least. If anything goes wrong we’ll come right back,” Kíli promised. 

“That’s what you said last time you took Frodo on patrol. You came back with a dragon, if you need reminding.” Thorin gently nudged Kíli and Kíli chuckled quietly. 

“I’m sure if Frodo has at least one more session with Azrâkul, he’ll be ready,” Kíli persuaded. 

“We’ll see,” Thorin muttered.

**x**

The night before the patrol, Frodo couldn’t sleep. He was incredibly nervous. He’d been able to take Azrâkul out a few more times and each time it was easier to convince the dragon to fly. However, Frodo was still anxious about how his dragon would perform when it came down to it. 

Frodo was also haunted by other occupying thoughts. Since his ordeal of falling out of the tree, Frodo had begun to contemplate the prospect of riding the dragons as mounts the way one would ride a pony or ram. They were already helping in areas that rams and ponies did; wouldn’t it make sense to utilize them as mounts as well? 

It would make things like patrols extraordinarily easier. Both dragon and rider would have a wide eagle-eye view of everything beneath them. However, he knew it would be impossible to even suggest this to either Thorin or Dís. So for now it would only remain a thought at the back of Frodo’s mind. 

Before he knew it, Fíli was waking him to get ready to go. Groggily, Frodo got dressed and grabbed the last few things he needed and stowed them away in his pack. He joined his family downstairs for a quick breakfast. Thorin and Dís had insisted that they would see the patrol off that morning. It would prove to be a little different from most patrols since they had to start at the dragon’s gate outside the mountain.

When they arrived down at the dragon’s pens, they spotted a few other dwarves were there waiting for them despite the early time. 

“It’s only the three of us on patrol today, right?” Frodo asked Fíli quietly. 

“Yes, it is,” Fíli confirmed. “I’m not quite sure what they’re all doing down here.”

“I heard the plan was to start utilizing dragons in our patrols and we were all curious to see you off!” Bofur greeted them. A few of the others including Bifur had a few quick questions and Fíli did the best he could to describe the general idea of the integrated use of dragons with patrols. He signed his answers in  Iglishmêk so Bifur could understand as well. Frodo swallowed thickly, his anxiety level nearly doubling with this many dwarves now eagerly awaiting to see if his idea would work or not. He didn’t want to disappoint anyone, but the closer and closer they got to leaving for the patrol, the more Frodo doubted his plan. 

There was no turning back, though, and the dwarves wished them good luck. They remained outside the pens as Thorin led his sister and nephews inside to prepare the dragon to leave. 

When they arrived at Azrâkul’s pen, the dragon seemed to sense this visit was different first because they usually never visited this early, and second because, they were weighed down with packs containing enough supplies to last them several days. 

Frodo quietly greeted the dragon and gestured for Azrâkul to follow them out of the pen to the gate leading outside. Azrâkul nosed at Frodo’s pack curiously, trying to figure out what was in the packs and what they were for. 

“No, don’t get into that,” Frodo pulled the dragon away and continued towards the gate. Thorin had already pushed the gate open for them and stood, waiting for them. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come along with you?” Thorin asked. “This is quite a small patrol.”

“The numbers are right for this kind of patrol,” Fíli assured his uncle. “I think we’re in safe hands, especially with Azrâkul.”

“That is, if he’ll cooperate,” Dís smiled wryly at the dragon, who tried to shrink to hide behind Frodo to avoid Dís’ gaze.  

“You’re upsetting him, ‘Amad,” Kíli chuckled as he reached over to scratch the soft spot under Azrâkul’s jaw.

“Something tells me he’ll be okay.” Dís shrugged.

“Okay, we’ll be back in a couple days,” Fíli assured them. 

“Good luck,” Thorin said. “And stay safe.” 

“We will,” Kíli assured them. 

“All right, Azrâkul,” Frodo muttered as they turned away from the mountain. “We’re heading out and you’re coming with us. This is when all your flying we’ve been practicing all week comes in handy.”

The Timberjack stayed on the ground and moved awkwardly alongside the patrol. They reached the edge of the clearing where walking for the dragon would become a little more difficult. Frodo looked back to where Thorin and Dís were still watching them and sighed. 

“Come on, Frodo,” Kíli called. “Let’s go a little further and see if he’ll figure it out.”

Frodo fell into step beside his cousins as they made their way into the forest to make their way to the proper patrol path they had mapped out beforehand. Frodo continued to cast his gaze over his shoulder to see if Azrâkul would take flight. At first, Azrâkul looked unsure as he planted himself at the treeline, refusing to follow them into the forest. 

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Frodo muttered. 

“Give him a chance, Frodo,” Fíli encouraged him. “Everyone’s nervous their first time out.”

Kíli laughed with his brother and Frodo smiled hesitantly and nodded before he turned and looked back to his dragon again. Azrâkul anxiously shifted his weight between wings and finally the dragon coiled his tail to support his weight before moving his wings to lift him off the ground.

“Knew it,” Kíli nudged his cousin as he heard the dragon take off. 

“Now we just have to make sure he doesn’t try to land on top of us when he gets tired.” Fíli gave them an apprehensive look. 

They continued through the forest and Frodo spotted Azrâkul circle overhead about two or three times an hour.

When they stopped for lunch, they looked for a place to rest that had a decent sized clearing for Azrâkul to land, if he wished. As they finished their quick meal Azrâkul swooped overhead, circled once or twice before determining he could land. Once he landed, he chirped at Frodo proudly, but collapsed in exhaustion.

Frodo hurried over to the dragon to make sure he was okay. 

“I almost feel cruel continuing on with the dragon as exhausted as he is,” Kíli muttered. 

“It's really the first time since we got him that he's flown this long. It's good for him,” Fíli assured his brother as they watched Frodo talk to the dragon. “The more exercise he gets, the stronger he'll be and the more we can take him out.” 

“I suppose. Anyway, we should get going again if we're to reach the treeline by nightfall.” Kíli squinted up to track the sun's position in the sky. 

“It's not that far,” Fíli assured his brother. “Another couple hours at the most.”

“There's a potential for rain this afternoon going by the look of the clouds,” Kíli warned. 

“Hopefully we’ll make some good progress before it hits,” Fíli sighed, glancing at the spots of sky between the trees. 

When they started off again, the dragon followed along on the ground, picking his way carefully along the forest floor. Azrâkul had to stop every so often to rest for a moment before continuing onwards. 

“Probably for the best, you know,” Kíli assured his hobbit cousin. “Imagine if he tried to take off in the middle of this forest. We’d have trees raining down upon our heads.”

“There’s a few clearings he could take off in,” Frodo assured him. “Hopefully he’ll begin to build up his stamina if he keeps going on these patrols,” Frodo continued. 

Eventually they reached the treeline, but they got there just as the rain began to fall. 

“I don’t think we’re going any further tonight,” Fíli remarked as they looked out at the dark clouds filling the entire sky. They set up camp for the night, Azrâkul helping where he could. He raised his wings to shield them from the wind blowing the downpour their way. 

“The kindling won’t catch anything,” Kíli gave a frustrated sigh. “It’s already too damp to get a proper fire started with the flint.” 

“Give Azrâkul a chance,” Frodo suggested with a shrug. “The flint won’t start anything, but a dragon’s fire is sure to catch.”

“Sure, if you want to start a forest fire,” Kíli growled and shook his head. 

“Azrâkul,” Frodo turned to the dragon. “Could you start the fire for us? We just need a little bit of a boost.” Frodo looked to the dragon as it shielded them from the rain. Frodo made a few gestures and noises to try to communicate to the dragon. Azrâkul seemed to understand as its chest glowed slightly in preparation. Fíli and Kíli moved to take cover as Azrâkul shot a small spark to where Frodo had gestured. The fire puffed alive within the small fire pit Kíli had created. 

“Another point for dragon usefulness on patrols,” Frodo proudly boasted. 

“All right, no need to get too cocky,” Fíli muttered. “I still feel as if something is going to go horribly wrong with these ‘dragon usefulness’ exercises. Use a little more caution, Frodo,” Fíli chastised. 

“We have a fire to keep us warm tonight, no need to scold me,” Frodo muttered. 

“Come on, we’re all tired,” Kíli muttered. “We are grateful to have Azrâkul. Doesn’t mean we’re not a little nervous about it, though.” 

The rain finally lessened and eventually stopped all together. The dragon folded his wings when he realized the rain had stopped. Frodo smiled and thanked the dragon as it laid its head next to where Frodo had laid out his bedroll. Azrâkul had wrapped the rest of his body and tail around their camp, encircling Fíli and Kíli as well. The three of them eventually drifted off to the sound of dragon snores. 

**x**

The next day moved a little quicker with the sun shining and Azrâkul alternating between flying and awkwardly waddling alongside the patrol on the ground when he grew tired. As the afternoon grew into evening, Azrâkul took off and disappeared above the treetops. He had been in and out all day but this seemed like it was much longer than usual. 

“He’s probably found us dinner,” Kíli mused hopefully. “I could really go for some nice venison…” 

“Another point for dragon usefulness,” Fíli echoed Frodo’s sentiment. 

“Hopefully,” Frodo sighed as his eyes continued to scan this skies for his dragon. 

Suddenly, they heard a threatening roar emanate from somewhere west of them. 

“That sounds like a dragon,” Fíli frowned and turned to Frodo. “Was that Azrâkul? Was it a distress call?”

“I-I’m not sure,” Frodo stared wide-eyed between his two cousins, waiting for an answer from one of them. The three of them waited and listened for any other noises to determine what was going on. Soon there was a howl that followed the roar and it sounded much too close for comfort. 

“W-Was that a wolf?” Frodo asked. “Are there wolves out here?”

“Occasionally a pack will wander through and you’ll want to steer clear of them,” Fíli responded softly. “If we can avoid dealing with wolves, it would be for the best. Usually we don’t encounter packs out here on the treeline. If we wander anywhere near wolf territory, patrols are much larger to handle them if need be. As it is, we’re not equipped to handle them with our numbers.”

“W-We do have Azrâkul,” Frodo muttered softly. 

“If he’d come back to us,” Kíli replied as his eyes went to scan the sky again. Frodo wanted desperately to call for his dragon but he was too afraid to raise his voice higher than a whisper if there were truly wolves out there. 

There were a few cracking branches and the three of them looked towards the trees. They were startled to see several pairs of glowing eyes peering at them. Before Frodo could blink, Fíli had unsheathed his swords and Kíli had an arrow nocked and his bow drawn. Stumbling, Frodo pulled out his own dagger. Finally, the shape of the Timberjack swooped overhead as it landed and let out another roar; this time it was deafening. The wolves flinched, but didn’t move as more wolves appeared from the shadows. They didn’t move forward anymore as they calculated the best way to come at the dragon. 

“There’s way too many,” Fíli muttered. 

“What do we do?” Kíli responded. 

“We have to get Frodo away safely,” Fíli explained. “I can draw them off if Azrâkul helps me. You take Frodo and head the opposite direction. I’ll catch up, if I can.”

“Fíli, come on, that’s stupid and reckless!” Kíli hissed. 

“Ah, now you’re starting to sound like ‘Amad,” Fíli gave a low chuckle. 

“Fíli!” Frodo hissed. “You can’t!” 

Frodo’s mind spun as he rapidly tried to determine a better plan of action. There had to be something. If only they could  _ somehow _ put distance between them and the wolves to allow them to have a chance at escaping. He knew Fíli would never be able to take on the pack on his own, even if he had the help of Azrâkul. There had to be a way Azrâkul could help that didn’t include sacrificing himself to the wolves to provide them an escape. Perhaps, Azrâkul could draw them away somehow. If he could fly from above and shower them with fallen trees. 

“Azrâkul, go above the trees! You can cut the trees down and make a barrier between us and the wolves,” Frodo told his dragon. Azrâkul only moved to act as a protective barrier between them and the wolves. “Please, Azrâkul, this is the best shot we have,” Frodo whimpered as fear began to rise in his chest. It soon became clear that the dragon was not going to leave the clearing and leave them vulnerable. The plan would provide the wolves with a small opening to attack them and the dragon wouldn’t chance it.

Suddenly, an idea struck Frodo, one that he had been trying to repress all week. Azrâkul could fly them out of there. It was dangerous, but it was clear that the dragon would not leave without them. He hoped it was possible; after all, Azrâkul had caught Frodo on his back during one of their practice session. He knew it was reckless, especially because he knew how physically draining the patrol had been on his dragon. To try to carry all of them would be a gargantuan task, almost too much to ask. But it was such a desperate situation, they had to try. 

At that moment, Kíli loosed an arrow at the nearest wolf who looked ready to pounce. It struck the wolf and it staggered from the wound and fell. 

“We’re going to have to do something,” Kíli warned. “I’m not going to be able to hit them all.” Another arrow flew and there was a yelp from the trees which told them the arrow hit its mark. 

“I’ve got something,” Frodo murmured as he crept towards his dragon. “Azrâkul, we’re going to do something like the day I fell from the tree.” Frodo shed his leather, fur-lined overcoat and laid it over the dragon’s neck. 

“Frodo,” Fíli hissed. “What are you thinking?” Fíli asked in a tone that indicated that he had an idea what Frodo was going to attempt. 

“We’re going to fly out of here,” Frodo replied as confidently as he could. 

“There’s no way,” Fíli groaned, his eyes bouncing between Frodo, Azrâkul, and the wolves that were really too close for comfort. Frodo scrambled onto the dragon’s back, clinging to a spine to steady himself. Azrâkul seemed comfortable with the hobbit atop his back.

“There’s no other way,” Kíli admitted, firing two more arrows. “The dragon can do it. I saw it catch Frodo when he fell from a tree a week ago and they were fine. This is our best option.” 

Fíli gave an exasperated sigh, but he couldn’t argue. Their options were slim and they needed a plan immediately. 

“Go, Fíli. Get on,” Kíli called as he drew back his bow again. “I’ll hold them off.” 

Fíli sheathed his swords and hurried to Frodo’s side. 

“Careful of the spikes,” Frodo warned and Fíli situated himself behind Frodo between several of the dragon’s short spines on his back. 

“Kíli, now!” Frodo called. Kíli turned and hurried over to the dragon, climbing on behind Fíli. “Azrâkul, go!” 

Frodo felt Fíli hold onto him tightly as the dragon spread its wings and began to beat them furiously to get them out of the air. At that moment the wolves launched forward, realizing their prey was about to get away. 

“Mahal, Azrâkul better be able to get us away!” Fíli cried into Frodo’s ear. The dragon struggled but he was able to keep steady, beat of his wings, and fly them away from where they’d been. Frodo was relieved to realize that Azrâkul was flying them back they way they’d come. Before veering off to the west and back to the mountains, Azrâkul landed near the tree line. 

“We won’t be able to go any further tonight,” Frodo breathed as the dragon settled and bowed to allow the riders to get off. Both Fíli and Kíli were silent, too shocked to say anything. Frodo slid off the dragon and Fíli stared at Frodo with a wide-eyed terrified expression.

“Did that just happen?” Kíli asked in a daze. Eventually the two dwarves managed to stumble off the dragon. Azrâkul collapsed in exhaustion. 

“We need to set up watches,” Frodo told his cousins. 

“Of course, yes,” Fíli agreed quietly. “Yes. I’ll take first watch.” 

They set up the bare minimum of their camp and Frodo and Kíli got ready to rest as they rolled out their bedrolls. The wind was a little harsh and Azrâkul offered very little protection tonight. His wings were folded and he was fast asleep, breathing loudly as he rested. 

Fíli sighed, glad the wolves hadn’t seemed to tracked them down. It hadn’t felt as if they’d gone that far, but Fíli knew that they had travelled quite a long way away from the wolves. He knew they were close to home and was incredibly grateful that the dragon knew to fly them as close as he could to the mountain. As Fíli’s watch came to an end and sleep was ready to overtake him, he gently went and roused his brother for the second watch.

“What was this about a tree and falling out of it?” Fíli asked his brother as Kíli began to wake. 

“Ah,” Kíli gave a tired sigh before stifling a yawn and finally recounting the tale of their first attempts at getting Azrâkul to fly. 

“So Frodo just took a chance that Azrâkul would actually be able to fly us out of there?” Fíli asked. “You can hardly call falling out of a tree a proper test flight.”

“Well, it worked,” Kíli sighed. “We’re lucky that it did. I hope Azrâkul will be able to get home after all this,” Kíli remarked. “He must be absolutely exhausted. He’s not used to being out of the mountain for this long.” 

“Well, at least he’s resting well right now, which I need to do too,” Fíli sighed. “Wake us if anything happens.” Fíli bid his brother goodnight. 

The night passed with no other disruptions and there were no signs of the wolves. When the others woke in the morning, Frodo gently tried to rouse Azrâkul. The dragon gave an agitated growl as Frodo gently stroked his jaw.

“How is he feeling?” Kíli questioned. 

“Tired, as I expected,” Frodo sighed. 

“We do need to get moving today, so the wolves don’t track us down again. They usually don’t come this far south, but I don’t want to take that chance,” Fíli told them. “I would like to reach Ered Luin by nightfall, pending on how our dragon is doing today.” 

Eventually, the dragon was roused but they made very slow timing that day as Azrâkul refused to take to the skies. So the dragon plodded along side Frodo and the dwarves through the forest heading west back to Ered Luin. With a quick lunch and dinner on the road, they managed to reach the mountain just after nightfall. 

Fíli opened the gate to the dragon’s area and they Azrâkul gladly went to his stall and collapsed in exhaustion. Frodo promised the dragon that he would be back to double check on him in a day or two. 

They arrived home as Dís and Thorin were just finishing smoking their pipes for the evening and were startled to see them.

“We weren’t expecting you back until tomorrow evening at the earliest,” Dís remarked as she put out her pipe and stood to greet them. “What happened?”

“Ran into a spot of trouble,” Kíli told them as he put his pack and bow down and shed his overcoat. “We handled it, but we had to cut the patrol short.”

Thorin raised his eyebrows, his gaze fixing on Frodo, who was also busying himself with shedding his patrol gear in the entryway. 

“‘A spot of trouble,’ hm?” Thorin looked expectantly at Frodo. 

“Wolves,” Fíli offered, when it seemed no one else was willing to answer. He pulled his boots off and came further into the room. Dís tutted as she gently grasped her eldest son’s arm in a gentle gesture. “We’re okay, ‘Amad.” 

“Wolves? There’s not supposed to be anywhere near the patrol route you took!” Thorin exclaimed as he took a step forward to look Frodo over. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Uncle Thorin,” Frodo muttered. “Just tired.”

“Come in and sit down,” Dís gestured to Frodo and Kíli. “Is Azrâkul all right? Did he help you?” Dís asked cautiously as the three of them collapsed on the couch. Thorin pulled over two chairs from the dining table and set them in the living area for he and Dís to sit down. 

“Oh, yeah, he helped all right,” Kíli gave an exhausted sigh. 

“What happened, Frodo?” Dís prompted her nephew, who looked the most reluctant to talk. 

“We’ve been in this situation before, Frodo. You know we’ll always find out what happened in the end,” Thorin reminded him. Frodo took a deep breath and started by explaining what had happened when he fell out of the tree one of the first days they got Azrâkul to fly. Thorin didn’t look pleased, but allowed Frodo to continue without a word. Frodo went on to explain that incident had made him think of the plan to get Azrâkul to fly them away from the wolves.

“Well,” Thorin gave a sigh when Frodo finished, “you’re safe and that’s what matters.” Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Will Azrâkul not be allowed back on patrol?” Frodo asked anxiously.

“What gave you the impression that he wouldn’t be?” Thorin frowned. 

“Well...I just...you know…” Frodo trailed off. 

“It  _ was _ dangerous,” Thorin admitted. “But still, the dragon saved your life...or at least he saved you from some very gruesome injuries. This will require more trial and error when it comes to including dragons on patrol. I think now I would rather have at least two or three dragons on patrol and the addition of a few more bodies on the patrol teams as an extra precaution.”

“W-What about pursuing the idea of riding the dragons? If we had trained for this, for flying...if the dragons were accustomed to this, attacks like that wouldn’t be a problem at all.” 

“That’s still incredibly dangerous to even begin to consider.” Thorin shook his head. “I’d prefer you keep your feet firmly on the ground where they belong.”

“On the ground where I could possibly be mauled by wolves?” Frodo muttered in response. 

“Frodo,” Thorin barked. “Don’t take that tone with me. I didn’t deny the possibility completely. I agree...it might be something to look into.” 

Dís raised her eyebrows and gave her brother a bewildered look. 

“You would seriously considering...flying the dragons?” Dís questioned. 

_ “Possibly,” _ Thorin retorted. “It still seems stupidly dangerous and I’d much rather not see Frodo on the back of one of those beasts, so far off the ground. But it’s still a valid possibility and could be extremely useful if we could manage it.” 

“I’d love to talk more about this possibility of potentially flying dragons, but can we do it when we’re not exhausted?” Fíli asked. They all agreed and Frodo quickly made his way to the washroom before either of his cousins could claim it first. 

**x**

For several weeks Azrâkul rested and meanwhile, Frodo couldn’t stop thinking about the exhilarating flight they had taken during their patrol. He knew that with additional strengthening and exercise, Azrâkul would be able to carry Frodo’s weight at the very least. 

But there were things he’d have to research before he just went off on the back of a dragon. The biggest problem seemed to be the saddle. He’d have to have one custom made to fit Azrâkul. The ones that fit the ponies and rams would be an ill fit for a dragon, and probably be quite uncomfortable for the dragons themselves. 

Thorin still didn’t seem to want to discuss the possibility of riding dragons just yet and Frodo was becoming frustrated as well as impatient. Finally, he decided he could at least conduct some research without having to go through Thorin or Dís at all. 

One afternoon, when Frodo was sure that Thorin was preoccupied in meetings elsewhere with Aunt Dís, he made his way to the blacksmith shop. Sure enough, he found Dwalin hard at work and the forges were sweltering hot. He watched as Dwalin hammered the glowing red metal on an anvil and eventually the dwarf looked up at him, startled to see the hobbit in the shop. Finding a quick stopping point, Dwalin gave the hobbit another inquisitive look.

“Thorin isn’t here and neither are Fíli or Kíli if you were lookin’ for ‘em,” Dwalin told the hobbit as he wiped his hands on the apron he was wearing. 

“I wasn’t looking for them,” Frodo shrugged innocently. 

“Then what are you doin’ here, lad?” Dwalin questioned, growing suspicious. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Frodo continued vaguely. 

“And what is it that you want to talk about?” Dwalin raised his eyebrows. 

“A saddle. I wanted to know where I might be able to get one made,” Frodo finally explained. 

“Hm, I could probably work something out for you, I suppose. Why do you need one made, though? Can’t you ask Thorin about borrowing one from the stables? What do you need it for?” Dwalin asked. 

“It needs to be custom,” Frodo replied, avoiding Dwalin’s second question. 

“Our Dwarven saddles don’t work well enough for you? Do you need a specific hobbit sized saddle?” Dwalin chuckled. “I figure you’ve grown into them a bit better by now. Besides, what do you want with a saddle? Are you and Thorin planning another trip to the Shire soon?”

“No...not quite,” Frodo mumbled. 

“Frodo, why do you need a custom saddle made?” Dwalin asked sternly as if he had an idea why Frodo would want a custom-made saddle. As Frodo struggled to find a reason, Dwalin gave an exasperated sigh. Frodo’s hesitation to tell him was a dead giveaway. “Did you really think you could come to me about this and I’d willingly agree to enable this?”

“Thorin said dragon riding could be a possibility!” Frodo quickly argued, giving up  his façade. 

“I know what Thorin has said,” Dwalin grumbled. “He most certainly wasn’t going to approve this. He’s discussed your idea with me, but neither of us are comfortable moving forward with it just yet. Neither is your aunt and she’s been the one backing you this entire time.” 

Frodo gave a frustrated sigh and Dwalin felt a twinge of pity for the young hobbit.

“Be patient, Frodo.” Dwalin tried to cheer up the young hobbit. “You’ve impressed upon us so many changes involving the dragons in only a few short years. I’m sure at some point soon we’ll be giving your dragon riding a shot. But sometimes you just have to wait. I know that’s hard for you, especially because you’re so young,” Dwalin told him softly. “But your patience will be worth it, I promise.” 

**x**

Frodo realized he was going to get nowhere with Dwalin and decided to leave him to his work. He didn’t feel like heading home just yet and decided to head towards the dragon stables. Frodo didn’t have the keys on him, but he knew Bofur was usually down there on this day of the week and he hoped he might be able to catch him. Perhaps he would have some kind of idea how to go about the exploration of this idea and make it safe enough to persuade Thorin, Dís, and Dwalin to give it a try. 

Luckily, when Frodo arrived he could hear Bofur’s voice coming from within the dragon stables. Frodo waited patiently outside and soon Bofur, Bifur, and two other dwarrowdams who had been helping with the dragons appeared. Frodo greeted them as well as signing ‘hello’ in Iglishmêk to Bifur who returned the greeting.

“Master Baggins,” the younger dwarrowdam greeted him. 

“Good afternoon, Drífa,” Frodo greeted her. “How is your Gronkle doing?” 

“Ragni is doing well. We’ve just brought him outside the mountain for the first time this afternoon and he really enjoyed himself,” Drífa boasted. Frodo smiled broadly. 

“I’m glad to hear it,” Frodo nodded. 

“Down here to see your own dragon, Frodo?” Bofur asked as he closed the gate behind him. “Where is your usual entourage? I’m not used to seeing you down here by yourself.” 

“Ah, they’re busy today,” Frodo shrugged. “I was actually hoping to catch you.” 

Drífa and her companion quickly realized Frodo wanted to speak to Bifur and Bofur privately and bid them goodbye before Frodo continued. 

“What’s on your mind, Frodo?” Bofur asked.

“Just...wanted to see how the dragon’s were doing,” Frodo started. “How is the training going with the others? It’s good to hear that dwarves like Drífa are taking their dragons outside the mountain.” 

“It’s been going really well,” Bofur explained as he began to list the progress made with the other dragons in the past week or so. “We heard about the patrol, by the way,” Bofur commented as he finished his report.

“What did you hear?” Frodo asked hesitantly. 

“Your uncle says you were cornered by wolves and Azrâkul had to fly you all out of harm’s way,” Bofur replied. “Pretty impressive, if I do say so myself.” 

Bifur signed something to Frodo accompanied by a quiet phrase in Khuzdul and Frodo could only catch the word ‘trouble.’ Frodo looked to Bofur for help translating. 

“Oh, he’s wondering if that’s what’s troubling you,” Bofur translated. “I hadn’t noticed anything was troubling you until now. Is there something else you wished to speak to us about?” 

“It’s about that,” Frodo started. “Flying us out of harm’s way. I’m…”

“You’re thinking how useful it would be to fly the dragons,” Bofur nodded. “Aye, Thorin told us about that too.” 

“He did?” Frodo asked. 

“‘Course,” Bofur nodded. “I don’t think the idea sounds half bad.”

“Everyone thinks I’m mad, but if it hadn’t been for Azrâkul and being able to fly out of the situation, I don’t know where we’d be right now. The point of that patrol was to explore any other opportunities for the dragons to help us, and I really think this could be a perfect opportunity.”

“Sure it’s a bit dangerous and mad. Doesn’t mean it’s not a good idea though. This was your mad, dangerous idea to begin with, now look at where we are. We have dragons being acquainted with the others and they’re really starting to become a big help in terms of manual labor around here. For example, we’ve started properly using  Drífa’s Gronkle, Ragni, down in the mines a couple weeks ago. He stayed calm the entire time because he was comfortable with Drífa and he was able to move about three tons of rock for us. Amazing creatures they are.” 

“I’m so glad to hear it,” Frodo smiled. It filled him with confidence to hear how well the others were bonding with the dragons and that they were becoming useful after all this work and training.

“Bifur and I have already begun discussing the best way to tackle that next step, but it may be a while before we solidify any training regimens for that. We’re still going to focus on introducing the dragons into society. Then we’ll consider dragon flying, all right?” Bofur promised. 

“That sounds wonderful,” Frodo smiled, so incredibly relieved that Bofur seemed more open to the idea than any of his family had been. 

“In the meantime, how about we go visit your dragon?” Bofur suggested. 

“Can we also visit Bifur’s dragon?” Frodo asked in his best Khuzdul. Bifur nodded enthusiastically as the cousins led Frodo back into the dragon stables.

**x**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY Y'ALL....BACK FROM A SUMMER HIATUS I NEVER MEANT TO TAKE. WHOOPS.
> 
> We're really taking off now (ahah no pun intended~) and I've got most of chapter 19 written so I promise it won't be too much of a wait next time!   
> As always, shout out to [Kate](http://anunexpectedjourney.tumblr.com) my wonderful beta and you can find me at tumblr [here](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com)!! 
> 
> (Thanks for everyone's patience! Y'all are the best!)


	19. The Dragon Rescue

Bilbo had counted another five summers pass as he enjoyed a much more comfortable life in Erebor thanks to Bard’s patronage. Since then Sigrid and Bain had grown quite a bit, and Bard always had stories about his children every time he saw Bilbo. The spring a year beforehand, Bard and Ingrid had another daughter, Tilda.

Bilbo always loved to hear about Bard’s family, but he couldn’t help but miss Frodo terribly as he listened to the father talk about his children. Of course, Bilbo hadn’t raised Frodo since infancy but a part of the bargeman’s stories reminded him of when Frodo had come to live with him at the young age of eight. He tried not to think about how much time had passed and how old his nephew would be today if Frodo had managed to survive Smaug’s attack on Ered Luin all those years ago.

During one of Bilbo’s routine visits down to Bard, he could sense something was off when the bargeman didn’t show up as expected. Bilbo wondered if he had gotten down there earlier than usual but determined that he was on time when he glanced upstream and saw the barrels starting to collect at the mouth of the river. However, there was still no barge in sight.

Bilbo’s stomach churned unpleasantly as his mind whirled through all kinds of thoughts about what might have happened. Finally, he saw the barge making its way towards the mouth of the river from the lake and Bilbo sighed in relief.

However, something still felt wrong. Bard didn’t even cast a glance over towards where Bilbo waited. Usually the bargeman would call out to Bilbo as he began to collect the barrels and Bilbo would go and help Bard load his barge before collecting the things the bargeman had brought him.

Bard set about hastily collecting the barrels on his own as if he were in a hurry to get out of there before Bilbo spotted him. Bilbo frowned. Perhaps whatever the reason was, it was connected to why Bard was so late today.

Bilbo finally emerged on the shore and greeted Bard hesitantly. The bargeman jumped and then decompressed a bit when he realized it was Bilbo. He still looked visibly shaken. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Bilbo explained as he came closer. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You’re usually… I mean, you usually call out to me, before I even realize you’re here. Is something the matter?”

“I feel as if I’ve just seen a ghost,” Bard admitted. “Everyone thinks you’re dead. The legend of the great dragon tamer of Erebor is dead.” 

“What?” Bilbo frowned. “Why would they think that?” 

Now that Bilbo was closer he could get a good look at Bard and he could see how terrible the man looked. He was ragged and he looked absolutely exhausted. Bilbo wasn’t sure but his eyes looked swollen and red. Bard refused to say anything in response.

“What happened?” Bilbo’s eyes widened as he realized something terrible must have transpired for Bard to be acting this way. “Are your children all right? Has something happened to them? Has something happened to Ingrid?”

“Ingrid is…she’s dead,” Bard told him shortly.

“ _ What?” _ Bilbo gasped in shock. “What happened?” Bilbo pried.

“You promised they’d be safe. You promised we’d all be safe. It seems the great dragon tamer of Erebor is not all he’s cracked up to be,” Bard told him bitterly. Bilbo’s jaw hung gaping at Bard. “That’s why everyone thinks you’re dead. The dragon tamer is dead and now the dragons are back to terrorizing us.” 

“I’m still alive! You should be safe! Nothing has changed!” Bilbo argued desperately.  _ Was the power of his ring giving out? Would Minty and all the others begin to turn against him? _

“Something must have changed,” Bard gave Bilbo an accusing look. “She was at market just after my last visit with you. It was one of the first times…she was weak after giving birth to Tilda, you remember.”

Bilbo nodded silently.

“She was finally regaining her proper strength back after a year of recovering and…she wanted to go to market by herself the other day. She’s hardly left the house so…I wanted to let her have the afternoon to herself. I volunteered to watch the children when she went. About an hour later I hear…horrible sounds. Roars from the dragons overhead, wood cracking and burning, the smell of smoke filling the air. I could hardly leave the children…Sigrid’s only five, she can’t…and then I find out the market’s been destroyed. A random dragon attack. The first attack in five years and my wife was caught in the middle of it.  _ My Ingrid is dead because of your damned dragons. _ ” Bard let out a stifled sob.

“Bard, I had no idea, I swear to you,” Bilbo tried to tell the man.

“You told me you had control of the dragons in the mountain!” Bard exclaimed before giving a shuddering sigh. “You told me you would keep them away from Lake-Town! If you’re not dead then that only means that they’re no longer listening to your commands. It’s your fault my children will grow up without their mother!” Bard barked angrily.

“I tried!” Bilbo exclaimed as his own tears threatened to surface. “I thought they were still obeying Smaug! They haven’t been acting any differently, they’re still under my control!” Bilbo tried to assure him. Of course, he couldn’t track every dragon’s movements, but Smaug had promised…was Smaug disobeying him now if the ring was losing its effect?

No, Smaug still answered to him, despite what the dragon tried to tell Bilbo about the maker of the ring being the only one to hold any power over an Alpha. Bilbo had plenty of control over Smaug, which in turn meant he had control over the rest of the dragons. If the ring’s power was wearing off he would know. Smaug would know, which meant Bilbo would know.

“No,” Bilbo breathed. “This wasn’t the dragons in the mountain, it must have been a wild one. Nothing else could explain this.  _ The dragons in that mountain answer to me and me alone!” _

“Get out of my sight,” Bard snapped as he turned his back on Bilbo and continued to hastily load the barrels onto his barge.

“Wait,” Bilbo sighed. “At least take the money I brought you.” Bilbo held out his pouch of coins.

“I didn’t bring you your goods, Master Baggins. Keep your money,” Bard insisted.

“Take it. It’s of no use to me and your children will need it more than I,” Bilbo argued. “Please, Bard. It’s the least I can do right now.”

Bard slowed down and silently turned around. He reached out and took the coins that poured out of Bilbo’s pouch and deposited them into his own coin purse.

“I will look into this. I’m sorry that there’s nothing I can do for Ingrid now, but I will ensure your children will grow to see adulthood. They will not die at the claws or fire of a dragon.”

“That’s a bold promise after such an attack,” Bard muttered darkly.  “I hope, for my children’s sake, you can keep it.”

Bilbo swallowed and nodded hesitantly. He walked back towards the cover of the trees where Minty was waiting for him and allowed the bargeman some peace as he loaded the last of the barrels. Bilbo’s mind was spinning. He couldn’t believe there’d been a dragon attack on the town. He couldn’t believe Bard’s wife had died in the attack. He wished he had known. Maybe then he could have flown a few of the dragons from Erebor to meet the attacking dragons and ward them off.

He jumped on Minty’s back and hurried back to the mountain. He had to try to understand what had happened and if there was anyway to prevent it from happening in the future. When they arrived back inside the mountain, Bilbo pulled Minty away from his chambers.

“We need to speak to Smaug,” Bilbo told her. She grumbled in response. “I know you don’t like it, neither do I. But sometimes it needs to be done. Be brave, Minty,” Bilbo encouraged her as she turned off towards the lower levels of the treasury. When they spotted the Alpha, Bilbo was glad he wouldn’t have to wake the dragon and disturb him. He was already awake and communicating with a few other dragons.

“Ah, Ring-bearer,” Smaug greeted him, switching into Westron Bilbo could understand. “Good.”

“Good?” Bilbo questioned. “Were you…looking for me?”  Bilbo asked.

“I’ve just received some distressing news,” Smaug explained as he stretched one of his wings lazily.

“So have I,” Bilbo told the dragon. Perhaps Smaug’s news was related to the tragedy in Lake-Town. Of course, Smaug would never deem that ‘distressing,’ so Bilbo wondered what could upset the Alpha.

“A few of the dragons are telling me they’ve been attacked and some have even been captured just north of here,” Smaug informed Bilbo before Bilbo could address his own distressing news.

“I—what?” Bilbo asked, frowning. “How? Who is doing this?” Bilbo asked.

“The dragons are unsure,” Smaug explained. “They only know that they’re losing numbers when they go to hunt on the north coasts. There are goblins in those mountains, but I’ve never known them to organize enough to kill our kind. Orcs are also prevalent, but we have always been able to combat them and they’ve never posed much of a threat.”

“Okay then, we’ll focus on that in a moment, but first I must ask you a question.” Bilbo stopped Smaug’s train of thought. Smaug seemed irked by Bilbo’s aversion to the dragons’ problem, but allowed Bilbo to continue. “I’ve been made aware that there was an attack on Lake-Town,” Bilbo told the Alpha. “We’ve made a promise and this recent attack has caused plenty of grief and damage. Do you have any knowledge of why dragons were anywhere near that town?” Bilbo asked. Smaug huffed.

“I suppose you do realize by now that I have a difficult time disagreeing with any of your direct orders, O Great Ring-bearer,” Smaug replied in a sardonic tone. “Even though you are not the ring’s original maker, I still am susceptible to its powers while wielded by a lesser-being.”

It was Bilbo’s turn to scoff at Smaug’s insult, but this was no time to get into petty fights with the dragon.  _ Let him think what he thinks, _ Bilbo thought to himself. 

“That being said,” Smaug sighed, “I have kept my word and no dragon under my control has gone near the miserable town on the lake. In fact, they’ve had to turn north in search of new hunting grounds now that you’ve forbidden them from going south. In a way, you have become responsible for the dragons who have disappeared.”

Bilbo groaned. It seemed he could not escape anyone’s blame, as apparently he was at fault for everyone’s tragedies today.

“Listen, you don’t have to try and guilt me into helping you figure this out,” Bilbo gave an exasperated sigh. “I want to help the dragons who live here just as much as you do. Is it any surprise to you that I’ve grown attached to these dragons during my time here in the mountain?”

Smaug rumbled in response to the hobbit.

“Back to the matter at hand, I have a few more questions if you don’t mind,” Bilbo continued as if he had no intention on finding out if the Alpha ‘minded’ or not. “I know you bear control over the dragons that live here in the mountain, but what of the wild dragons? Are they not bound to your commands?” Bilbo asked.

“There is no distinction between ‘wild’ dragons and the dragons that live here. The dragons that live here are wild. They are not domesticated or anyone’s pet no matter what this one thinks.” Smaug gestured to Minty.

“I never meant to insinuate that and Minty is not my pet. She is my friend,” Bilbo argued. “So there are no dragons in this region that do not answer to you?” Bilbo continued, trying to keep the conversation on track.

“The only way a dragon could have disobeyed my reign here would mean that dragon has come from a long ways away. Over the seas, most likely,” Smaug assured him. “It seems highly improbable that a dragon would travel that far only to inflict misery on an already miserable town.”

“Are there…any other Alphas left in the world that the dragons could be listening to?” Bilbo asked. “Perhaps up north? Maybe that’s where our dragons are disappearing.”

“No, as I’ve told you, my kind died out in the First and Second Ages of this world,” Smaug explained. “The most likely scenario is that dragons from far away are beginning to encroach on my claim. Perhaps, they’ve been pushed out of their own hunting grounds and saw those around the lake were open for the taking since my dragons have been pushed out by a greedy halfling’s wishes.”

“Oh, you are  _ unbelievable,” _ Bilbo growled in irritation.

“Now, back to the  _ real problem _ at hand,” Smaug ignored Bilbo’s scathing remark, “what’s to be done about the disappearing dragons?”

Bilbo sighed and rubbed his temples as he considered Smaug’s dilemma.

“Oh, I dunno,” Bilbo gave an exhausted sigh. “You are the Alpha to the nest, what are you suggesting?” Bilbo questioned, when he wasn’t exactly sure what Smaug wanted to hear in response to his question. He was too mentally exhausted to keep up with the dragon’s mental acrobatics. 

“I would go investigate what’s endangering the dragons, but it is fairly difficult for me to leave the nest now with this hindrance.” Smaug raised his wing to expose the scarring that must have been nearly a decade old now. Bilbo grimaced at the sight even though the wound was no longer fresh. Seeing the scarring jarred his memory of the horrible stench of dragon’s blood mixed with burnt flesh.

“What you’re saying is that you want me to go investigate on your behalf?” Bilbo looked at the dragon. He was unimpressed with the dragon’s passive way of telling Bilbo what he wanted.

“It is a fairly dangerous task and I do not wish to lose my Ring-bearer especially when he is so underwhelmingly prepared for a task such as this.” Smaug folded his wing again. Bilbo rolled his eyes.

“What do you want, you great hulking fiend?” Bilbo snapped.

“Reconnaissance,” Smaug replied. “Go and find out what’s threatening the dragons, but do not engage. If you run into any spot of trouble with other dragons your ring should keep you out of trouble.”

Bilbo had figured the answer would be something like this. But no matter, Bilbo would have probably volunteered to go anyway. Like he had told Smaug, he did care for the dragons and if they were disappearing, Bilbo wanted to find out why and make sure it was stopped. If he managed to get a lead on the rogue dragons that attacked Lake-Town, that would be even better.

Though, if he discovered nothing, he stood to disappoint a large angry all-powerful dragon and a grieving father, neither of which seemed like a wise thing to do. He decided he’d save the planning and packing for his trip for tomorrow as he’d already had a very long day. For now, he wanted to return to his chambers, take a long bath, make himself dinner, and go to bed.

**x**

When Bilbo got up the next morning, he sluggishly prepared for his trip north. He dug through the piles of records and books he had stockpiled in the antechamber of Thorin’s rooms. Bilbo knew there had to be a map to the region in there somewhere. He could have sworn that he’d found one a year or two ago. The map had been in Khuzdul so Bilbo hadn’t paid it much attention, but now he figured it would be a better guide than nothing. Perhaps he’d be able to remember a bit from his Khuzdul lessons with Balin and Dís.

Finally, he found what he was looking for in a record book of trading transactions with Dale that had been in Westron. Bilbo gave the map a quick glance over to see if it’d be any use at all. He was able to find Erebor by identifying the small illustration of a lonely peak with a lake to the south and a great forest to the west.

“Okay, okay,” Bilbo muttered to himself. “Smaug said north which looks like we’ll be headed towards those mountains and then eventually the coast.”

Minty chirped as she watched him scramble back and forth as he prepared.

“I mean, what if it was just a weather mishap or something of the kind?” Bilbo asked the dragon. “Maybe there was a bad storm off the coast that drowned the dragons. I’m not going to be able to find much if that’s the case. No harm in looking I suppose, especially if the storm has passed…unless it’s an area prone to constant storms in which dragons get swept into unknowingly. Then Smaug will be  _ really _ pleased with me if I go and get myself killed by a storm and lose his ring. At least then, I won’t have to face poor Bard and tell him I’ve got no clue why the dragon that attacked Lake-Town did what it did. But then of course you lot will go back to terrorizing the town with me gone, I suppose.  _ That’s _ reassuring…” Bilbo trailed off. He realized he was beginning to babble nervously.

Bilbo continued to pack as he realized, besides being terrified at the prospect of finding something that could potentially be killing dragons, he was also a little excited to get out of the mountain. This was the first time since he’d arrived in Erebor that he was allowed to go further than a few miles out from the mountain.

Bilbo’s thoughts wandered to the potential of escaping the mountain and flying west until he reached the Shire and Ered Luin. He could find them, find his family, and tell them he was alive. His stomach swooped in a rush of excitement. Surely on the back of a dragon it would be a quick trip back right?

It had taken an injured Smaug two days. Surely Smaug figured Bilbo would be longer than a week with a mission such as this and it would be easy to take a detour and pretend he was held up by weather or something. Perhaps…but no, Smaug had a huge wingspan and could cover much larger distances in a shorter amount of time than Minty could. That and Bilbo knew he had blacked out some time during their flight. Smaug could have traveled day and night for a few days before Bilbo woke up. Traversing all of Middle-Earth in two days would be impossible even on the back of a dragon.

Besides, if Smaug knew Bilbo had done that—and surely he would—the Alpha might be motivated to pay Ered Luin another visit and Bilbo couldn’t chance that.

If Bilbo was being truthful with himself, he was terrified to go back. He had no idea if Thorin or Frodo had survived Smaug’s attack. Frodo had fallen from the dragon’s claws and Thorin most likely got caught up in the fire blast. What if he returned to be reunited with them only to find they had died over a decade ago?

Or even if they had managed to survive that attack, there was no guarantee he’d be welcomed with open arms. Thorin could have married again. After all, Bilbo had only known Thorin four years. Bilbo wouldn’t blame Thorin for moving on and remarrying. Would Frodo have stayed with Thorin and Dís and their families? Or would Frodo have gone back to the Shire and lived with his Brandybuck cousins again?

No, Bilbo didn’t want to think about it. It was better to remain in the dark about certain things. What place would Bilbo have if either of those options proved to be true? He would have foolishly endangered their lives by tying them up in this Ring-bearer and Alpha nonsense. There was no sense in attempting it...it was simply ridiculous to consider.

He soon realized he had gotten off track considerably. Bilbo should be thinking about the best way to go about this reconnaissance mission instead of entertaining lofty ideas of reuniting with his family. Some time within the past several years he had resigned himself to the idea that he would probably never see any of his family again until he was reunited with them in the next life. Bilbo couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he’d gone from ‘ _ when _ he would see them again’ to ‘ _ if _ he would see them again’ to  _ knowing _ he would never see them again, and at some point he knew in his heart it was impossible go back to the life he’d had before he was the Ring-bearer. So it would be best if he left those thoughts in the past and focused on the future.

Once he’d finished packing everything he could manage, he prepared Minty for their flight. He secured his makeshift saddle to her back and donned his helmet. Bilbo glanced at the spear he’d used years ago to propel his ‘dragon tamer’ image to the men of Lake-Town, which was now propped in the corner of his chambers.

Smaug had said only reconnaissance, though. He shouldn’t be engaging with anyone and if it was truly only dragons he had to contend with, he had his ring. For a brief moment he considered the possibility it was neither dragons nor the weather, but instead some other adversary. Perhaps, he’d want his dwarven spear at his side? But then again, it would be bulky to carry with him in addition to the packs. He had Thorin’s sword at his side, if worse came to worst. Finally, Bilbo decided to leave the spear and straddled Minty.

“All right, girl,” Bilbo sighed. “Let’s see what happened to your friends.” Bilbo spurred her onwards.

**x**

Bilbo travelled north the best he could for the first day. He’d gotten a somewhat late start with the packing he had to do that morning, but he managed to get pretty far while still keeping an eye out for suspicious activity. They landed for the night and Bilbo cooked himself a meager meal of beans from his stash in Erebor. He desperately wished Bard had been able to bring him something from the town. Bilbo usually had a fresh loaf of bread for a few days after his visits with the bargeman. Minty had caught a few rabbits and birds, but Bilbo let her have those because he didn’t want to take a part of her own meager meal.

For fear of being discovered by something unpleasant in the middle of the night, Bilbo put out his fire. Although the weather was warming up considerably, the nights this far north were still bitterly cold. Bilbo unrolled the bedding he had packed and curled in close to his dragon companion who gladly curled around him. Her internal heat was enough to keep Bilbo warm during the night.

When Bilbo woke the next morning, he was almost startled to wake to the sun rising. He had lived in the mountain for so long he’d forgotten what it was like to wake up when there was actual sunlight doing the rousing.

Minty purred, realizing he was awake, and Bilbo reached up and gently scratched under her jaw, thanking her for keeping him warm.

“Let me eat something really fast and we’ll be on our way,” Bilbo murmured as he pulled his pack open to dig around for a quick breakfast.

Soon they were on their way again and Bilbo could see the mountain tops detailed in the map he’d studied the day before.

“Okay, there we are,” Bilbo muttered to himself. “What do you think, Minty? Do you have any idea where these dragons might have disappeared? Where do the dragons hunt now that I’m—how did Smaug put it? ‘A greedy halfling?’ A greedy halfling indeed, trying to keep people alive.” Bilbo huffed.

Suddenly, Bilbo spotted a small wisp of smoke rising into the air and dissipating in the atmosphere and his heart lurched. He had to go check it out as part of his reconnaissance, didn’t he? That wisp of smoke could lead him to the reason for the missing dragons.

“Come on, Minty,” Bilbo spurred the dragon onwards. As they got closer the smoke seemed to grow larger and a few additional wisps appeared beside the larger clouds.

Bilbo was so focused on the smoke columns in front of him he’d been neglecting to keep an eye on the grounds beneath them. When he finally felt Minty rumble out a warning, it was too late. They’d been swooping down close to the ground to keep out of sight of whatever camp they were about to scope out. However, this low altitude left them open to a wide range of attacks from the ground. Suddenly he felt Minty jerk downwards and Bilbo fought to hold on for dear life. Looking down, he could see figures below them, and several of them were holding onto the tether they now had on Minty.

“Well, I think we found out where our dragons are going,” Bilbo breathed to himself as he swallowed hard, his mind racing to figure out what to do. 

Without thinking, he pulled out his ring and pulled it onto his finger, letting the odd sensation wash over him as Minty was pulled closer to the ground. 

He tried to get a good look at his captors as Minty finally landed. They were larger than goblins but no less ugly. They must be orcs. Bilbo had never seen an orc in person, but he’d heard his fair share of orc stories from the dwarves to determine that much.

“I’m sorry, girl,” Bilbo whispered as he quickly dismounted the dragon and dodged out of the way of the orcs. 

“Looks like it had a rider,” Bilbo heard one of the orcs remark. 

Did these orcs speak Westron? Bilbo could have sworn only a moment ago they were shouting to each other in Black Speech. Bilbo looked down at his ring and raised his eyebrows. Did the ring really translate the orcs words? He watched as half of the orcs tackled Minty to finish tying her down. The others fanned out, no doubt looking for any trace of Bilbo. His stomach was doing backflips as he stood perfectly still, hoping the ring wouldn’t alert the orcs to his presence. If he could understand Black Speech with the ring, perhaps the orcs could sense him and the trinket he carried like Smaug had.

After a painstaking half an hour the orcs withdrew looking for Bilbo and Bilbo carefully followed them back to Minty, trying to listen to anything they said.

“Must have lost the rider a while back,” an orc supplied to the leader of their patrol when they returned to the downed dragon. 

“Destroy evidence of the rider,” the leader decided. “We don’t need Bolg thinking there’ll be any lose ends to tie up.”

Bilbo watched disparagingly as the orcs gathered up his cloth saddle and rucksack from the back of Minty. It seemed as if they meant to set fire to his things, but they were in a hurry and one of the others called the orcs tasked with destroying his things to go and help contain Minty. 

He wanted to immediately hurry over and collect his things, but he knew that could cause too much of a commotion and expose him. Bilbo mentally noted where his things were dumped and hoped he could come back and collect them. 

The orcs all focused on dragging Minty back to wherever they had camped and Bilbo followed them as quietly as he could. He hoped the group of them would have to stop and camp for the night, which would provide Bilbo the perfect chance to free his friend.

What were the orcs doing with the dragons? Like Smaug had said, Bilbo was amazed that the orcs had organized together to carry out attacks on dragons. Not only that, but they were capturing them, and not hunting them. They were pulled out of the sky, not shot down and the orcs made no attempt to injure Minty once she was grounded. They’d only tied her so she couldn’t escape. There was a reason they wanted the dragons alive.

“Bolg will be pleased with the new addition to the ranks,” one orc told another as they made their way through the forest. “We haven’t made a catch this good in a long time.” The other orc grunted in acknowledgement.

Unfortunately, the orcs continued on into the evening and eventually made it back to their main camp. This must have been where the smoke plumes were coming from. Bilbo was still able to sneak his way past the orcs that were posted as guards and carefully continued to follow Minty. Finally they arrived at some crudely made cages, but they were sturdy enough to hold dragons.

There were at least thirty other dragons chained to stakes in the ground and caged. He watched as the orcs untangled Minty from their bindings and chained her the same way before stowing her in the cages. Bilbo felt sick to his stomach. Not only was Minty captured but Bilbo had no way of returning to the mountain and telling Smaug what had happened.

Well, as long as he was here he could gather as much information as possible, especially since the ring allowed him to understand the violent creatures. Perhaps in that time it would allow him to think of  _ something _ to get Minty out. He wouldn’t be able to get them all out at once, though. He continued to sneak his way through camp and scout out where their leader was most likely stationed.

Bilbo had heard one of the orcs mention the name ‘Bolg’ and Bilbo figured that had to be their leader. He finally made his way into the center of the camp and was startled to see at least three Monstrous Nightmares stationed outside of a large tented structure. His heart constricted.

It may not be an Alpha dragon, but these orcs definitely knew how to capture and control dragons and that meant they could be dangerous adversaries, especially if they were capturing Erebor’s dragons. No matter where he looked there were dangerous beasts. As well as the dragons, the orcs had large wargs milling about. Both beasts regarded each other with contempt and uncertainty. Bilbo frowned.

Either way, the dragons or the wargs would be able to smell him and he was surprised that they weren’t kicking up too much of a fuss just yet. Bilbo hoped since he lived with the dragons, he might smell of dragon by now. In that case, they would think nothing of his smell.

Bilbo sat and thought as he watched orcs come and go. He should try to get to that tent and determine just  what these orcs were doing with the dragons. Finally he decided he had to get past the beasts somehow and the dragons would be the easiest to slip past with his ring. He knew the dragons would react to his presence or at least the presence of the ring he wore, but it was the safest course of action. Bilbo prayed that the orcs would only assume the dragons were spooked by something small like the wind and not bother investigating.

Slowly he drew himself closer to the tent and the first of the Nightmares froze, trying to figure out what it was sensing. Bilbo shushed the dragon as quietly as he could. The dragon’s gaze finally landed on where Bilbo stood despite his invisibility.

“I’m a friend,” Bilbo muttered to the dragon. The dragon didn’t move to attack, so Bilbo continued to move slowly by the dragon. Finally, he found a part in the tent. Orc camps were not that well constructed, Bilbo noted. He slipped inside and tried to take in what he was seeing. The décor was meager at best, but Bilbo didn’t expect anything more from an orc. They weren’t exactly known for their decorative choices. An orc who was uglier than the rest of them—if that were possible—stood at the center of the room looking over records and a map all written out in their Black Speech. Unfortunately, the ring didn’t translate written word.

The orc from earlier, who had led the patrol, stood before the large ugly orc and gave his report of capturing Minty. Apparently, this was Bolg, their leader.

Bolg dismissed the patrol leader and an orc that stood at the edge of the tent made his way further inside. Bilbo sat and listened to them for a while, his skin crawling after his extended stillness. He knew he always felt strange when he wore the ring, but prolonged exposure to it was really not doing him any favors. Soon Bilbo had to duck out of the tent, expertly dodging the dragons.

Bilbo hurried back to where he thought the dragons were being kept. From what he’d heard the orcs talk about, it seemed as if they were building an army of some kind. He couldn’t gather how the orcs were managing it or why they needed an army. At least Bilbo had some kind of answer to give Smaug if he ever managed to make it back. It would take him more than a week to trek back to the mountain and by that time the orcs might move on or move the dragons.

He figured the dragons were safe from being killed or seriously injured for the time being. If this Bolg wanted to use the dragons for a dragon army, they needed the dragons intact and able to fly.

Finally, his eyes landed on the large dragon pen and Bilbo hurried over and tried to single Minty out. All the dragons in the pen were spooked by Bilbo’s presence, but finally he was able to find Minty.

“I’m so sorry, Minty,” Bilbo apologized quietly. “I should have been paying better attention, this is my fault.”

Minty gave him a low rumble in response.

“I’ll figure something out, I promise,” Bilbo told her with a confidence he didn’t really have. “For now I have to get out of here. The ring is extremely unpleasant and I need to take it off but I can’t do it here. I’ll be back. I’ll be back,” he assured her. 

She gave a sigh as Bilbo bid her goodbye one last time before carefully making his way out of the camp. Once he was a fair distance away, he found a tree with low hanging branches he could reach and climbed up. After finding a sturdy branch to sit and rest on, Bilbo finally worked the ring from his finger, leaving behind a burning sensation on his skin. He looked at the finger in the faint moonlight, but it didn’t seem to have left any physical burns.

Bilbo groaned and wrapped his arms around the trunk of the tree and rested his head against the bark. He hoped that he would remain undiscovered here until morning when he would have to decide what he was going to do.

**x**

Bilbo slowly woke the next morning, blearily turned his vision towards the orc camp, and gave a soft sigh of exhaustion.

Before Bilbo scaled down the trunk of the tree, he slipped the ring on and let the uncomfortable sensation wash over him. He began to lower himself down the branches until his feet finally touched the ground. 

A plan had begun to formulate in his head before he fell asleep the night before. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get Minty or any of the other dragons out of their cages without causing a ruckus. Bilbo had remembered Smaug telling him to use his ring in case he ran into trouble and thought about the dragons that the orcs used. 

He had no idea how the orcs had control over the dragons, but he hoped that whatever it was, his ring would be more powerful. Bilbo hoped he could slip by patrols to the outer edges of their camp and find a dragon he could commandeer. It was reckless and stupid and the uncertainty of it all twisted Bilbo’s stomach into knots, but at the moment it was the only course of action he had. 

When he made his way back towards the orc camp, Bilbo paused and observed from the treeline outside of the camp. It seemed as if there were less orcs around during the day and Bilbo wondered if it was because more patrols were out trying to find dragons for their army. He decided to scale one of the trees to get a good overview of how the camp was laid out. 

Bilbo stayed in the tree nearly all day, noting where most of the guards were stationed and figuring out which dragons would be easiest to snatch. There were a few Gronckles who were mostly unguarded and seemed as if they were used for carrying supplies. Bilbo knew that although the Gronckle would be the best choice for accessibility and was docile enough to handle easily, the Gronckle was one of the slowest dragons. If the orcs figured out what had happened, they’d be able to chase him down in a heartbeat. 

Eventually he spotted a Changewing over by where the other dragons were kept. It was riskier going for that dragon, especially since Bilbo would have to sneak through a large portion of the camp to get there. But if he managed it, the dragon was fast and could blend into its surroundings easily, making the escape far easier. If rider and dragon could ride invisible through the darkness, that would be his best chance. 

He memorized every movement of the orcs and when the sun finally dipped below the horizon, Bilbo lowered himself to the ground. Ensuring his ring was secured on his finger, Bilbo began his trek towards the Changewing. There were a few close calls, with Bilbo nearly knocking things over trying to avoid an orc and Bilbo almost spooking a whole pack of wargs as he passed by. 

Finally Bilbo made it to where the Changewing sat, the armor the orcs had put on the dragon weighed it down considerably and would make it visible to the orcs as they made their escape. Bilbo sighed. He would have to carefully take the armor off and do it quickly if there was to be any chance the orcs wouldn’t notice random armor pieces popping off their dragon. 

First, he had to gain the dragon’s trust without alerting the orcs to his presence. The Changewing already seemed to sense something and Bilbo believed he had his ring to thank for that. All the dragons acted strangely around Bilbo when he wore the ring. They were clearly able to sense the ring and its bearer. 

“It’s okay,” Bilbo whispered, barely audible. “We’re going to help each other out.” 

The dragon, who had at first looked startled, seemed to calm itself as it realized Bilbo was not there to harm it. The Changewing allowed Bilbo to undo its chest and face armor plates. Bilbo left the piece atop the dragon’s back to at least allow Bilbo a little bit of comfort while riding the dragon. Of course, he hoped the dragon would allow him to ride. He knew he didn’t have much time now that the dragon’s armor was off. If the orcs saw the armor on the ground they may begin to suspect something. 

“We’re flying out of here,” Bilbo muttered. “You can come live with us in Erebor, you’ll love it. In fact, I’ve got some friends I’d like you to meet.  You’re just like my Minty’s companion, Myrtle,” Bilbo muttered. Finally Bilbo silenced himself and gathered the courage to mount the dragon. As he adjusted to be comfortable he focused solely and completely on Erebor. He hoped, using the ring, he could guide the dragon there as he did with Minty. If not, he’d be left flying around aimlessly on the back of this Changewing. That is, if he could get the Changewing to fly at all. 

“Come on, now,” Bilbo breathed. “We have to leave now.”

The dragon suddenly went almost completely invisible beneath him and Bilbo nearly let out a relieved cry.  _ Oh, how perfect is this? A camouflaging dragon with its invisible rider! _ He wondered if Minty’s companion, Myrtle would ever allow him to ride her. The Changewing’s abilities would make for an impressive match with his magic ring. 

He had no time to think any further as the Changewing spread its wings and they began to lift off from the ground. Bilbo was relieved to notice the takeoff was almost silent and it seemed as if no orcs had noticed the dragon escaping. 

Bilbo continued to pray to himself that this would work and he would get the dragon to take him home to the mountain. He had to tell Smaug what was happening. Something had to be done about it. 

They flew until Bilbo saw the sun begin to rise. He was exhausted and had not slept all night, but trying to get back was crucial. Watching the sun rise in the east, he realized they were heading in the correct direction: south. Bilbo nearly wept out of relief. 

As the sun began to rise higher in the sky, Bilbo finally touched down to allow both him and the Changewing a much needed break. Bilbo’s stomach growled and he realized that he had no food since he never went back to retrieve his things after Minty had been captured. He sighed and decided to rest as he leaned his head against a great tree and dozed off. 

When he woke again he found the Changewing also taking advantage of the break and napping on the other side of the clearing. He was relieved the dragon had not taken off while Bilbo napped. 

As the afternoon got later, Bilbo gently roused the Changewing. With very little spoken communication the Changewing allowed Bilbo to climb on once again and soon they were heading the direction of the Lonely Mountain once again. 

Bilbo began to breathe properly when he saw the lonely peak on the horizon and soon he was touching down outside the gate. The Changewing looked towards the mountain with apprehension. 

“It’s safe for you in there, I promise,” Bilbo tried to persuade the dragon. He knew it would take him a long time to climb down to the heart of the mountain where Smaug was without the help of a dragon, which was time Bilbo didn’t have. Bilbo didn’t wait long before he gave up trying to convince the dragon of anything and Bilbo hurried in through the ruined front gate, climbing over debris. 

Bilbo hurried through halls and down stairs until he finally began to spot the golden light reflected from the mountain’s treasury. 

“Oh, you better be nearby,” Bilbo grumbled to himself. A few dragons swooped overhead and Bilbo glanced up to them. 

“Oi, make yourselves useful and find Smaug!” Bilbo shouted at them as he carefully made his way onto the golden piles of coins and treasures. “I have news!”

He knew he didn’t have time to waste and it felt as if he were moving so unbelievingly slow. It seemed as if an entire week had passed since Minty was captured. 

Finally, Bilbo spotted a large hill of gold that began to rumble and shift. 

“Smaug!” Bilbo called. “Smaug, wake up,” Bilbo snapped as the dragon slowly roused himself. 

“Where is your companion?” Smaug asked as he realized Bilbo was not accompanied by the usual Hobblegrunt. 

“Something’s happened,” Bilbo explained as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Obviously,” Smaug gave the hobbit a bewildered look. “You’re back without the dragon you constantly have glued to your side.”  

“The orcs...The orcs—they‘re capturing dragons.” Bilbo spat out as he steadied his breathing. 

“The orcs?” Smaug’s interest was piqued. “You're sure? What’s made them such a formidable foe? They’ve never been a danger to us in the past.”

“They’ve found a way to ground dragons and—and they’ve chained them up. They’re not killing them.”

“Why? Why are they capturing us?” Smaug questioned. “Are they trying to figure out the best way to kill our kind?” 

“They’re building an army,” Bilbo responded. “I don’t know what for, but an orc named Bolg leads them. Their camp is a couple days flight from here. What do I do? I have to free them. I have to free Minty,” Bilbo cried, tears prickling behind his eyes. 

“Calm yourself, Ring-bearer,” Smaug rumbled. Bilbo was about to retort when he realized Smaug was pulling himself from the gold coins and stretching his wings. “We will go and retrieve our dragons. They may have learned how to ground many of our dragons but that does not mean they’ve learned how to ground me. I will be no match for the beasts who so brazenly take my kind from our nest.”

“Can you? I mean, leave...can you fly?” Bilbo questioned. “I thought you couldn’t with your old injury.”

“It’s not completely debilitating,” Smaug responded. “I’ll manage.” 

“Wait,” Bilbo called. “Not yet. We must wait for nightfall. It’ll be easier to travel under the cover of darkness.” 

The last thing Bilbo wanted to do was to scare the people of Lake-Town with the sudden appearance of Smaug so soon after the recent dragon attack. Bilbo hoped that if they were able to eliminate the camp full of orcs and their dragons to the north, it would minimize the chance of another attack. He couldn’t be sure, but he had a feeling the rogue dragons were linked to the orc camp somehow. 

“Also, I must rest. I have had a very tiring couple of days. I don’t imagine the orcs will be moving their camp immediately,” Bilbo added as he suddenly felt the weariness of the past several days begin to take its toll on him. He was exhausted and he hadn’t had a proper meal in several days, but he couldn’t stop until he knew Minty was back in the mountain with her family. 

“Very well,” Smaug nodded. “You have the rest of the day to recuperate. We leave at nightfall,” Smaug agreed. Bilbo nodded in acknowledgement.

“If you don’t mind,” Bilbo started, realizing his usual companion wasn’t there to ferry him through the mountain. “Can you please ask one of the dragons to take me up to my chambers?” 

“Ah,” Smaug sighed before calling to a Nadder and speaking with the dragon in their language. Bilbo inwardly groaned. Why did Smaug constantly pick intimidating dragons for him? Where were the more mild dragons like Minty?

The Nadder bowed its head in agreement to the Alpha’s request and swooped down before Bilbo. 

“Thank you,” Bilbo called to Smaug. As promised, the Nadder ferried Bilbo up to the Royal Wing where it promptly flew away. “Ruddy dragon, I might have needed you for another trip!” Bilbo called. 

He hoped Smaug had dragons keeping an eye on the time of day outside and would send a dragon to fetch him so they could embark on their quest. It was still impossible to tell what time of the day it was inside of the mountain. 

Bilbo set about making himself a bland meal and tried to take a quick nap before they departed for the night. He was woken by clawing at the door and Bilbo startled awake, realizing it must be a dragon sent to fetch him.

“Just a moment please!” Bilbo groaned as he tried to wake himself up. He groggily grabbed for the bag he’d repacked for this expedition. This time, he grabbed the spear in the corner of the room. This was a rescue mission and Bilbo felt there was more of a need for the spear than on a reconnaissance mission. 

He opened the door expecting to find the Nadder or any other dragon standing before him, but it was Myrtle who greeted him. She seemed agitated and refused to look at Bilbo despite her seemingly being there to fetch him. 

“I’m so sorry, Myrtle,” Bilbo sighed. “I never meant for Minty to get captured. I had no idea there was even a possibility. I mean, I suppose I had some idea, since dragons were disappearing. But, it’s okay, we’re going to get your companion back, don’t you worry. Daisy will have her mother back soon.” 

Myrtle gave a low growl in response and flicked her antennae angrily. Bilbo bit his lip and sighed. 

“I’ll do anything to get her back, I promise.” Bilbo hesitantly reached out and put his hand on Myrtle’s long neck. “Now, are you here to take me down to Smaug?” 

Myrtle gave a reluctant chirp in acknowledgement and Bilbo carefully found the best way to mount the Changewing. 

Soon Bilbo found himself in the dilapidated grand entry hall where Smaug was waiting for him.

“There you are,” Smaug rumbled. “The sun has set. We should have already left.” 

“Apologies,” Bilbo muttered. “Let’s leave.” 

“Your friend Myrtle won’t be joining us,” Smaug remarked when Bilbo didn’t move to dismount the Changewing. 

“She won’t?” Bilbo frowned. “Her companion is one of the captured dragons, why shouldn’t she come with us? Why shouldn’t half the dragons in this mountain accompany us?”

“Because they will only slow us down. Now, if we’re to make it to your orc camp by day break we must leave now,” Smaug explained impatiently. “And I require your services so you are coming with me.” 

“My services?” Bilbo questioned as he stumbled off the Changewing. 

“You recall I bear more power when I am with my Ring-bearer,” Smaug explained. Bilbo scoffed at the use of ‘my’ in Smaug’s statement. “I also need you to help with freeing the dragons on the ground while I destroy their camp.” 

“Oh,  _ that  _ sounds perfectly safe,” Bilbo grumbled sardonically. “Absolutely no way that can go wrong.” 

“Now come, we’re wasting time,” Smaug rumbled. 

Bilbo had not been expecting to ride on Smaug all the way out to the camp, but he supposed the Alpha’s logic was sound. Smaug was confident that he was all they would need to obliterate the orc camp. Bilbo couldn’t argue. The dragon had brought down this great kingdom over a hundred years ago. 

“Very well,” Bilbo sighed as Smaug crouched as much as he was able, to allow Bilbo to climb on. Bilbo ensured his spear was secured to his rucksack of supplies before he began his ascent up Smaug’s side. He found a set of spines on the lower part of the dragon’s long neck that felt secure before he called to Smaug that he was ready. 

Bilbo’s stomach churned at the thought that he hadn’t ridden the Alpha dragon very much before this. He had become comfortable riding dragons the size of Minty, but to take Smaug as his mount now terrified him. 

But it also thrilled him. 

There was something about taking on the ‘Dragon Tamer’ persona that excited him. As soon as he had the dwarven helmet on and the spear in hand, draped in the clothes and cloaks of the ancestral dwarves who had lived in the mountain, he felt like a completely different person—a person with much more confidence and control. Now that he was properly riding upon the Alpha of the nest, this feeling surged through him once again. 

Smaug probably wouldn’t care for Bilbo thinking he was in control, but Bilbo didn’t quite care what Smaug thought of him. The fact was that Bilbo had the ring that bore control over dragons—and not just any dragons, but also ones of the Alpha species. It was true Bilbo had no power that matched that of the Ring’s creator, but he still maintained some sense of control and it was a wonderful feeling. 

The night was colder than the past few evenings and Bilbo glanced out towards Lake-Town as they flew from the mountain. Bilbo hoped they were leaving quietly enough that none of the people in the town would spot Smaug and panic about another dragon attack. 

The Alpha dragon turned north and they were on their way towards the orc camp. 

**x**

Smaug’s calculations had been right. 

They arrived just as the earliest morning light was beginning to spread across the dark sky. Bilbo had hoped that he could shut his eyes and rest his eyes for a bit, but he was too anxious about losing his grip and falling from the dragon.  

“There!” Bilbo shouted, seeing the same smoke rising into the air. Smaug put on some speed to cover the last distance to the camp. He circled over the camp and let out a deafening roar as he unleashed a wall of flame. 

The orcs sprang into action, scrambling for whatever crude weapons they were using to capture dragons.

“The north corner of the camp! That’s where the dragons are!” Bilbo cried as he pointed. He knew Smaug couldn’t see him pointing, but he’d hoped that the dragon had heard him. Smaug came crashing down and landed in the middle of the orc camp and Bilbo clung to the dragon for dear life. He imagined the landing was rocky thanks to Smaug’s old wing injury. 

Bilbo quickly tried to climb down off of the dragon, which was much harder than it was to slide off a smaller dragon like Minty. But he managed and he fell on his hands and knees before jumping up and reaching for his ring, jamming it on his finger before any orcs could realize Smaug had brought a passenger. 

He ran through the chaotic camp to find where the dragons were kept. One orc was left standing defensively before the dragon cage, guarding against any attack posed towards their newest acquisitions. 

Bilbo charged forward, disguised by the ring, and drove his blade into the orc. The orc whipped around, trying to determine where his attacker had come from. Bilbo had to dodge the orc’s blade before driving his own blade deeper into the orc’s side. Finally the orc collapsed and Bilbo was able to withdraw his blade and plunge it fully into the orc’s chest. When the orc gave one last shudder, Bilbo jumped off of the orc and began to search the body for keys. Just when he was sure he would never find the keys on this orc, his eyes landed on a key ring that had dropped just beside the body.

“Yes,” Bilbo breathed. “Yes, yes, yes.” Bilbo grabbed the key ring and hurried to the cages where the dragon’s were agitated and pulling against their chains, startled by the sudden attack. His hands were shaking as he tried key after key on the ring to find the one that would open the cage. Finally he was able to open it but he only opened it enough for Bilbo to squeeze through. 

He quickly found Minty, who was spooked by Bilbo’s presence. 

“It’s me, Minty, it’s me,” Bilbo hissed. “Please calm down, I’m here to get you and the others out.” Bilbo reached out and gently stroked Minty’s neck as she began to calm down. Once again he struggled to find the correct key for the shackles. When Minty was finally free she waited anxiously by Bilbo’s side as he went from dragon to dragon to unchain them. It took a while to calm the cage of dragons and find the right keys, but eventually they seemed to sense that the Ring-bearer was there to free them with the help of the Alpha dragon. 

When finally they were all unchained, Bilbo went back to the gate and pulled it open as quickly as he could while the dragons fled. Minty was the last one out and waited for Bilbo to climb onto her back. Bilbo smiled, glad to have his dragon back. 

“Smaug!” Bilbo shouted when they were in the air. Of course, the Alpha couldn’t hear him and Bilbo nudged Minty forward to get closer. They drew closer to Smaug and finally the Alpha spotted them. 

“We’ve got the dragons,” Bilbo called. 

“Get out of here,” Smaug barked. “I will meet you back at the mountain.” Bilbo nodded and urged Minty onwards, turning towards the south. The deafening roars of Smaug faded as Minty followed the group of dragons that had been freed and were all heading for home. Bilbo swallowed, and prayed Smaug would be all right. The Alpha had not deemed it necessary to have back up, but this was the first time he had been away from the mountain with his disabled wing.

Bilbo did not want to further endanger Minty, but he had the sudden urge to turn around and fly back to help Smaug.

_ What help can I offer? _ Bilbo thought solemnly. He was only a small hobbit. Compared to the might of the Alpha he was nothing.

_ Though he did bear the ring. _

“Minty, we have to go back,” Bilbo called, pulling gently on one of her spines. “Drop me off, I will ride home on Smaug.”

Minty offered a growl in argument.

“Minty, now,” Bilbo commanded her and finally the Hobblegrunt pulled away from its course and circled back. More smoke rose in the air, from the camp that was now being set aflame. Bilbo’s stomach churned unpleasantly, thinking about how difficult it might be to move about with Smaug setting the place aflame.

Minty touched down in the forest just outside the camp, just on the fringes of the chaos. Bilbo slid off the dragon and lifted the helmet off his head as he came around to gently stroke her maw.

“Okay, now you fly straight home,” Bilbo told her. “Myrtle and your mate...and Daisy...your family is waiting on you to come home. Don’t make them worry any longer than necessary. I’ll be okay. I have the ring. I have Smaug, we’ll be home soon.”

Minty gave one last whine in protest and Bilbo fixed her with a stern glance.

“Go home,” Bilbo sighed as he replaced the helmet on his head. He double checked the clasps on his cloak, secured the ring on his finger and gripped his spear tighter before turning away from Minty.

Taking a deep breath he entered the fray, dodging orcs and dragon fire alike. For the briefest moment, he was reminded of the day he was taken from Ered Luin and Smaug’s attack on the dwarves. Before his mind could travel further he was quickly brought back to the present by narrowly avoiding an orc charging past him.

He found a hidden corner and crouched down to take in his surroundings and see where Smaug was. The Alpha now had his back towards Bilbo as orcs charged his sides. Dragons under the control of the orcs bombarded Smaug with their own attacks. Smaug swatted at the dragons as they passed overhead. Bilbo gritted his teeth and looked around.

Finally, Bilbo spotted a grounded dragon nearby; its orc rider was fighting it to try to convince it to take to the skies in combat against the Alpha. Bilbo was relieved not all the dragons followed the orcs’ commands so willingly and he finally had a plan begin to take form in his mind.

Bilbo moved carefully towards the dragon and the orc that was trying to command it. It was a Nadder and Bilbo swallowed hard. He didn’t have much experience with the Nadders, but this was his best shot. Bilbo moved forward and thrust the spear through the orc’s back. The orc reared and spun to confront his attacker. Bilbo had to let go of the spear, which was now lodged in the orc, and he drew his sword and delivered the final blow. Once the orc had fallen, Bilbo used his foot to hold the orc in place and he pulled the spear from the orc.

The Nadder had stayed in place, seemingly paralyzed, as its wide yellow eyes searched for the presence of the Ring-Bbearer.

“It’s all right,” Bilbo assured the dragon. “I’m right here, I’m a friend,” Bilbo continued quietly. So far this approach had worked and Bilbo hoped that even with the chaos of battle surrounding them, the dragon would still respond positively to Bilbo. The Nadder took a moment to regard the invisible presence of the Ring-bearer before finally bowing its head to meet Bilbo’s outstretched arm. “That’s good,” Bilbo breathed. “I’m a friend, yes,” Bilbo continued quietly.

Bilbo glanced around hoping the other orcs weren’t suspicious of what was going on. Luckily, Smaug was a large enough distraction that most of the orcs were focused completely on the Alpha.

“Okay,” Bilbo sighed. “Okay, we’re going to be partners, all right?” Bilbo continued to stroke the dragon’s neck as he moved around the Nadder. “Partners. I’m going to need you to help me out. We’re going to fly through to distract the other dragons.”

The Nadder crouched down lower and a wave of relief washed over Bilbo as he was able to climb onto the back of the dragon. Careful of the spines, he situated himself on the dragon’s back.

“Okay, let’s join your friends in the skies,” Bilbo urged the dragon upwards. The Nadder began to beat its wings and it took off, shooting upwards. Bilbo held on for dear life. “Okay, come on, come on…” Bilbo muttered as he directed the dragon towards Smaug. There were two or three Monstrous Nightmares taking turns dive bombing Smaug and Smaug was roaring in frustration.

Bilbo focused completely on the figures falling from the sky to attack Smaug and the Nadder continued to fly straight towards them. Once they were upon them, Bilbo and the Nadder were able to swoop in between the Nightmares and Smaug, throwing them from their rhythm.

_ “Ring-bearer!” _ Smaug roared. Bilbo cringed as heard the Alpha call to him and the Nadder pulled back around and flew towards the Nightmares again to completely discombobulate them. “Get back to the mountain!” Smaug growled. “I told you I have this under control.”

“Yes, this looks under control,” Bilbo muttered under his breath as he disregarded Smaug’s words. “Come on, let’s chase off the rest of the rest of the dragons.” Bilbo pulled the Nadder up and around the Alpha to fend off more dragons.

With the aerial distraction taken care of, Smaug was able to focus completely on the orcs on the ground and the last of the orcs’ dragons fled and turned away from Smaug. He unleashed wall upon wall of flame, swiping at arrows sent flying his way.

“These are my lands! My dragons!” Smaug roared at them. Bilbo pulled the Nadder back for a moment and watched in awe as the camp burned. Smoke stung his eyes through the helmet and it was getting hard to breathe.

Through the fires, Bilbo spotted one last orc standing there. It was Bolg, just staring up at Smaug. It was hard to tell what the orc was doing standing amongst the wreckage and his fallen legion.

“Smaug, there! That’s Bolg, the Orc leader!” Bilbo cried. Smaug reared up and unleashed one last burst of flame from his maw, hitting the ground directly where Bolg was standing. Bilbo couldn’t help but let out a cry of relief.

“Ring-bearer.” Smaug turned his attention to the Nadder and its rider. The Nadder bowed its head with Smaug’s gaze upon it. “Dismount your dragon, we’re going home.”

The Nadder, seemingly reacting to Smaug’s command, descended and landed close to Smaug where the flames wouldn’t reach them. Bilbo silently thanked the Nadder and it bowed once more as Bilbo climbed onto the Alpha dragon.

**x**

The trip back to Erebor was a little longer and it took Smaug the rest of the day and a good deal into the night to return to the mountain. Smaug didn’t bother to stop and drop Bilbo off at the Royal Wing so Bilbo ended up in the treasure halls with the Alpha.

Once Bilbo had climbed down off of the dragon, he caught his breath and collapsed onto the coins himself.

“Are you all right?” Bilbo asked once he’d rested for a moment. Smaug rumbled in response.

It was silent for a little while and Bilbo considered how he’d get back to his chambers. He doubted the other dragons had made it back yet and there were no dragons in the vicinity at the moment. Many of them must have already been asleep for the evening. Perhaps he’d just stay down here for the night. Bilbo balked at the idea of trying to climb stairs to find his way back to his chambers.

“That was reckless of you, Ring-bearer,” Smaug remarked after a long period of silence.

“I know,” Bilbo sighed as he shut his eyes and focused on the feeling of the cool metal coins shifting beneath him.

“Thank you,” Smaug rumbled quietly.

Bilbo’s eyes shot open and he frowned, unsure if he had heard the dragon completely. With the energy he had left, he propped himself up to find the dragon had laid its head down upon the gold as well.

“What was that?” Bilbo questioned, a small exhausted smile pulling at his lips.

“It doesn’t bear repeating,” the Alpha grumbled, seemingly bitter he had said it in the first place.

“I believe you just thanked me.” Bilbo raised his eyebrows. “That’s certainly a first!”

“Don’t make me regret it,” Smaug replied. “But I meant it. You spared me some trouble by utilizing one of the orcs’ Nadders. How did you accomplish it? No matter how much I tried, the orcs’ dragons could not be persuaded by my powers.”

“Really?” Bilbo frowned. It made sense. They wouldn’t have run into such trouble if Smaug could have simply taken control of the dragons in the orc camp and turn them against their masters. “I wonder why that is. I was able to convince the Nadder to fly for me.”

“Perhaps that is your ring,” Smaug remarked.

Bilbo frowned and glanced down at the ring he now clutched in his hand.

When he had first arrived, Smaug assured Bilbo that he would never wield any kind of control of the ring’s powers. But if it was able to ensnare dragons that even Smaug’s powers could not touch, Bilbo was sure he could wield it to a degree unforeseen by the Alpha dragon.

“I suppose this was the answer to the riddle of why those dragons recently attacked Lake-Town,” Smaug told him. “Now you know they were not our dragons, they were the orcs’ dragons. That should put an end to things—the dragons should return and remain under my power and still be forbidden from going near the town.” 

“I suppose,” Bilbo sighed, but there was still a small feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He felt it couldn’t be that simple. For now he was too exhausted—and hungry—to put much thought into that feeling. He decided not to dwell on it, opting for sleep instead, curling up in the sea of gold coins beside the Alpha dragon and letting his exhaustion pull him into a deep dreamless sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for your continued patience! After going back and forth I am working on this fic during NaNo this year, which is bringing me closer to some of our final chapters (and then an eventual sequel!) We're getting there!
> 
> Thank you always and forever to [Kate](http://anunexpectedjourney.tumblr.com) my wonderful beta and you can follow me on tumblr [here](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com)!!


	20. A New Kind of Dragon

It took Ered Luin five years and many, _many_ dragon lessons to perfect dragon flying.  

In that time, they’d taken in quite a few new dragons to accompany the ones from the battle training days. The dragon stables had been opened up to the outside of the mountain and there was no longer an iron gate that separated the dragons from the fresh outside air. The dragons were allowed to come and go as they pleased, but almost always the dragons would return home to their new dragon roost where they were fed and spent  time with their Dwarven companions.

In the end, Dwalin did end up crafting new custom saddles with Frodo’s help for the few dwarves who had taken up dragon riding. Many of the dwarves still considered it an insane idea and kept their distance from the dragons, but there was still a select group of dwarves who thoroughly enjoyed working with the dragons and learning to ride them.

Dís, of course had her Nadder, Vírún, and was among the first of the dwarves to give flying a shot. Even with her impaired vision, she was determined as ever to help bolster the dragon efforts, despite still having a few reservations. She decided she’d rather put herself in danger before letting any of her boys—Frodo included—endanger themselves.

After that, Frodo finally got a proper chance to work with Azrâkul and raise the dragon’s endurance again after his initial crippling injury and the exhaustion that had affected him following their first flight on the patrol. Once they were comfortable enough, Dís and Frodo would take brief trips on their dragons, observing Ered Luin from a new perspective. It was an entirely new way of patrolling.

Frodo loved watching Ered Luin’s ravens fly alongside the dragons. For a while the ravens had been cautious around the dragons, but they had cohabitated with the dragons for such a long time, they had gotten used to their new flying companions. Now they teased and snapped playfully at one another in the air.

Fíli and Kíli were the next dwarves to take up flying, bonding eagerly with a Zippleback that had wandered into the dragon stalls at some point and upon discovering that the dwarves provided fresh food, decided to stay. It wasn’t long before the dragon gained Fíli and Kíli’s trust. They’d named the dragon Brísi and Brúni. Even on the backs of dragons, the brothers could hardly be separated.

Meanwhile, Dwalin still refused to ride any dragon and thought they were all mad, even though he continued to help with saddle creation.

“Why are you making saddles if you still think we’re all going to kill ourselves riding dragons?” Frodo asked.

“Profitable business,” Dwalin had grumbled. Frodo bit the inside of his cheek knowing that Dwalin must have had an inkling of trust in the dragons, otherwise he wouldn’t be helping them like he was. Dwalin had created an entire expansion to his and Thorin’s smithy to work with the leather saddles. Thorin took on most of the blacksmithing work, helped by Fíli more and more often, while Dwalin took on saddle orders and repairs. Frodo began to help Dwalin out and found the prospect of the different customization of saddles for the wide variety of dragons extremely interesting.

Thorin finally expressed interest in learning how to ride once dragon riding became a little more prevalent in Ered Luin. Dís and Frodo were the most comfortable with their dragons so they were the ones to help Thorin begin his dragon riding lessons. It took a while for Thorin to decide on the dragon he wanted to befriend. Many were already spoken for and some of the newer dragons were still a little skittish around the dwarves. Eventually, Thorin began spending time with a Rumblehorn who secluded himself from most of the other dragons. The dragon’s scales were iridescent and reflected a beautiful green and blue color.

“Of course, he picks the silent, brooding, non-social dragon,” Dís commented quietly to Frodo after Thorin had decided he would befriend and fly the Rumblehorn.

“Leave him alone,” Frodo chastised. “I think he’s picked a perfectly suitable dragon.”

It took Thorin quite a while to get the hang of it, but luckily the Rumblehorn bonded with Thorin quickly. The dragon was patient with him, gently butting against Thorin’s shoulder every time he greeted his Dwarven companion. Frodo couldn’t help but feel proud every time he spotted his uncle smile fondly at his dragon.

However, Thorin was still unsure about the whole flying ordeal and tried to back out of it more than once.

“It’s really okay,” Thorin assured Frodo once again as they walked home from the dragon stables one afternoon. “I don’t know if the Rumblehorn is really a _riding_ type dragon, you know?”

“They’re all pretty rideable, Uncle Thorin,” Frodo chuckled. “It’s okay to be nervous, but wouldn’t it be nice to learn how to fly? Aunt Dís is thinking we could take the dragons to the Shire and that way we can visit more often. She thinks it’ll only take us a day to get there on the backs of dragons. Don’t you want to come with us? Don’t you want to bring your Rumblehorn with you?”

“Okay, one, that is a _terrible_ idea. Where are we going to put the dragons while we’re in the Shire? The Green Dragon isn’t just going to give us a stable to put our dragons in. Two, I’d be able to ride with someone else, I suppose. Vírún could take both Dís and I. I just don’t think my dragon is ready to ride,” Thorin argued.

“I suppose with the Shire trips we’ll have to convince the hobbits that the dragons aren’t so terrible. I mean, once they see a Baggins riding on the back of one, they’ll come around eventually,” Frodo said.

“Yes,” Thorin reached around Frodo and placed a hand on the hobbit’s shoulder, “but you’re the same ‘Mad Baggins’ as your uncle who decided to move you to live in the mountains and become a part of a family of dwarves, remember. You’re not exactly a _conventional_ Baggins, by any means.” Thorin smiled softly at his nephew, gently pulling him into a one armed hug.

“Still a Baggins, though,” Frodo retorted as he leaned into Thorin’s touch, and softly poking him in the side.

“All right, if you have faith, then I have faith,” Thorin sighed, releasing Frodo from the hug.

“About the Shire or about riding?” Frodo questioned.

“About both, I suppose,” Thorin admitted. “I’ll give it a shot. But I want Dwalin to craft a saddle for me first. I’m not going to jump on the back of my dragon and hope for the best. Have you and Dwalin crafted a saddle for a Rumblehorn yet?”

“No, but it can’t be more difficult than the saddle we made for the Hotburple a few months ago,” Frodo assured him. “I’ll talk to Dwalin about it and get some drawings done for you,” Frodo promised.

**x**

Several weeks later, Dwalin and Frodo had been able to create a saddle for Thorin and his Rumblehorn, and Thorin could put off the flying lessons no longer.

“I think I’ve finally decided on a name,” Thorin announced as they made their way down to the dragon stables.  

“We finally have a name!” Kíli cheered.

“Go on, then,” Dís urged her brother.

“Vídar,” Thorin told them with a proud smile.

“We don’t have to keep calling it ‘the Rumblehorn’ or ‘Thorin’s dragon,’” Fíli laughed.

“I like that name,” Frodo smiled at his uncle as they entered the gate into the dragons’ pens.

Their first priority was to make it to Vídar’s stable and help Thorin put the new saddle on the dragon. Hopefully, he wouldn’t react negatively to the new addition.

The dragon was a little startled by the sight of the entire family down at his stable. Thorin was the only one who entered at first, introducing the saddle to the Rumblehorn.

He spoke softly and soothingly to the dragon as Vídar nosed curiously at the saddle. Eventually the family entered the spacious stable one at a time and they began to help Thorin put the saddle on the dragon. Thorin continued to reassure Vídar as Fíli, Frodo, and Dís worked to get it on. Kíli watched nervously and waited to see if there was anything he could do.

Eventually they settled the saddle on Vídar, but he seemed unsure about moving with the saddle on his back.

“Okay, now that we’ve got Vídar settled, I’m going to go fetch my Vírún,” Dís noted as she headed towards the stable’s entrance. “My, your new name makes for a mighty fine pair to my dragon’s name,” Dís turned and remarked to her brother. “I can’t imagine that’s merely a coincidence, hm?”

“Aunt Dís is right. Vírún and Vídar sound very nice together,” Frodo nodded in agreement. “Did you take that into consideration, Uncle Thorin?”

Thorin shrugged and gave no audible answer as he focused on adjusting the saddle on the Rumblehorn.  Dís looked at Frodo and shot him a satisfied grin before turning to leave the stable.

“Are you boys going to get your dragons?” Dís asked.

“I will in a little bit,” Frodo answered.

“Oh, let’s go get Brísi and Brúni, Fíli,” Kíli pleaded.

“We’re going to overwhelm Vídar if we bring out all the dragons,” Fíli commented, rolling his eyes slightly.

“Or… seeing the other dragons with riders will _inspire_ Vídar,” Kíli countered.

“If it looks like trouble, we’ll put our dragons away, we promise,” Dís assured Frodo. The hobbit sighed and rolled his eyes before turning back to Thorin.

“Are you ready, Uncle Thorin?” Frodo asked with a smiled. Thorin looked anxiously at his dragon, who looked just as anxious as his dwarf companion.

“Yes. Come on,” Thorin agreed as he began to lead his dragon out of the pen and out of the mountain. Vídar was used to these little trips outside the mountain, but was still unsure about the new thing on his back.

“Uncle Thorin, you need to relax,” Frodo told him softly. “I think Vídar can sense your anxiety.”

“Or maybe I can sense his,” Thorin muttered. “Maybe we should wait until he’s more comfortable,” Thorin urged, looking to his nephew. Frodo shook his head with a sigh. “All right,” Thorin groaned. “I know.”

As Vídar continued to fidget in his new saddle, Frodo spotted his cousins and his aunt take off from the mountain, gliding above the treetops. They weaved in and out of some of the other wild dragons that had begun to make their home at Ered Luin and called to Thorin to join them.

“This is a terrible idea,” Thorin groused once again. Frodo sighed and glanced at Vídar, who seemed to be watching the dragons overhead with some curiosity.

“The wild dragons are always going to be around. At least Vídar has Vírún and Brísi and Brúni who are all familiar to him. He looks as if he might want to give it a shot,” Frodo assured him.

After quite a bit more convincing, Thorin finally found himself on the back of his dragon hovering above the ground. He held onto the saddle for dear life, but Frodo beamed up at him. Dís hovered a little higher nearby to keep an eye on Thorin in the air. After a few more hours of practice and adjustments and exercises, Thorin was beginning to warm up considerably to the idea of properly flying with his dragon.

It took a few more months before Thorin was completely comfortable, but eventually Frodo was pressing his aunt and uncle for another trip to the Shire as Midsummer’s Day was soon approaching and Frodo had enjoyed the trips to the Shire over the holiday.

Of course, there was the technicalities to work out, as Thorin had stated - they couldn’t exactly stable the dragons at the Green Dragon as they did with their ponies. There would need to be arrangements made. But Frodo was positive they’d be able to work something out with the hobbits. It would take time, patience and a good deal of convincing, but they’d figure something out.

**x**

Their first trip was indeed, tricky to maneuver, since hobbits were still as wary as ever about dragons. They had determined they would keep their dragons in Bindbole Wood and hike into town so the hobbits wouldn’t startle at the immediate sight of the beasts.

After much explanation and convincing they were able to convince a few curious, brave hobbits to come out and meet the dragons. The group of hobbits were mostly made up of the Gamgees who trusted Frodo and Thorin immensely, a few of Frodo’s Took cousins, and a Brandybuck or two who managed to get dragged along on this adventure over Midsummer celebrations. They were fascinated by the dragons and how docile they were with the dwarves and Frodo. The younger hobbits bounced with excitement once they realized the dragons were not to be feared and their parents looked on with wonder. Frodo couldn’t help but feel proud as his cousins and relatives praised his amazing feat.

The next year they attended the celebrations, Frodo was able to bring Azrâkul further into town and land in the large field by the Party Tree. By that point, word had gotten around that Frodo Baggins had been able to tame the beasts that killed his parents and his adoptive guardian, Bilbo. Hobbits such as the Tooks were thrilled and curious by the prospect of befriending the beasts that had once been the monsters that terrorized them. Others were skeptical and didn’t like the idea of one of their own willfully bringing dragons into their lands. Regardless of how the hobbits felt about it, many came from all around to see this seemingly docile dragon that a _Baggins_ had been able to tame. For a while, no one dared to come close, but eventually when the peaceful nature of the dragon was made evident more hobbits stepped forward to be introduced.

Eventually, in the years following that, they were in fact granted one of the larger stables behind the Green Dragon Inn for their dragons when they came to visit. Luckily, they had gotten a stable that was farther away from the others since no one wanted to stable their ponies anywhere near the dragons. However, the dragons were well behaved and they seemed to enjoy stretching out in the grassy fields of the Shire behind the Green Dragon. The large water troughs near the dragon stables were always filled with water in case of any flammable accidents, though luckily they’d had no problem thus far.

The summer before Frodo’s twenty-fifth birthday, they decided to return to the Shire once again to celebrate the Midsummer festivities. Although this would be their sixth time attending the festivities after Bilbo’s death, Frodo still noted how solemn Thorin was whenever they went. Both Frodo and Dís had expressed to Thorin they’d be more than happy to visit the Shire at another time but Thorin denied their suggestions.

“I like being there for the festivities. It’s the one time all year I feel closest to Bilbo and it’s nice to remember our wedding and celebrate our anniversary still,” Thorin explained softly over dinner, the night before they left. Dís and Frodo exchanged a sad smile over the dinner table.

In the morning when they arrived at the stables, a few of the dwarves were already there tending to the dragons.

They made their final preparations and the others bid them safe travels and a pleasant trip.

On the back of a dragon it only took them the better part of a day instead of two weeks to travel to the Shire. Frodo knew if he was traveling on his own he'd be able to make it to the Shire in half that time, but traveling with the others slowed him down considerably. Thorin had yet to allow him to visit the Shire on his own and Frodo knew it was ridiculous. He was almost an adult, after all. He could be trusted to take this trip on his own.

After a full day of travel with a few breaks in between they spotted the familiar sight of the Shire just as the sun was beginning to set.

When they arrived it was nearly dusk and there weren’t many hobbits out, as most of them had retired for the evening. The warning bells sounded as they touched down in the party field, and the sound still chilled Frodo’s blood. The bells cut off swiftly as the hobbits must have realized the dragons were friendly and their friends from Ered Luin had finally arrived for the celebrations that were taking place over the next week.

“What was that about?” Kíli called as he and Fíli unmounted their dragon.

“I don’t know. We wrote ahead to warn them we were coming. Maybe they weren’t expecting us at dusk. We must have startled them,” Frodo replied as he slid off of his own dragon. The five of them herded their dragons towards the inn and the stables. After housing the dragons at the stables that had been prepared for their arrival, they made their way into the inn.

“My apologies!” the timid innkeeper greeted the dwarves. “Someone spotted the dark shapes in the sky and rushed to sound the alarm! I suppose not everyone had forewarning of your arrival. Please come in, I have your rooms prepared for you.”

The hobbit apologized again and again as he fetched the keys for their reserved rooms and once they’d gotten the keys they settled in for the night. They had reserved two larger rooms with Fíli, Kíli and Frodo sharing one room and Thorin and Dís sharing another. Once they’d deposited their packs, they returned to the public part of the inn to eat dinner. They’d hardly begun their meal when Sam came hurrying into the inn, searching for the family of dwarves.

“For once, I was glad to hear those bells,” Sam admitted as he made his way over to the table. Frodo stood up with a smile on his face before embracing his friend.

“How did you know it was us? You know they usually don’t ring the bells when we arrive now,” Frodo questioned.

“I just had a feeling,” Sam explained, quickly. “After your letter about being here for the Midsummer festival, I knew those bells couldn’t be anything else.”

“Are you going to sit down, Sam? You look like you’ve winded yourself trying to get down here in such a rush,” Fíli chuckled.

“Oh, yes, of course, thank you,” Sam smiled at Frodo’s family, nervously.

Sam was eager to hear about how things were going with the dragons in Ered Luin and in turn filled Frodo and his family in on the happenings in the Shire. Although the accounts made Frodo miss the Shire, he was still immensely grateful for his life in Ered Luin with the dwarves. He wouldn’t trade the excitement of his life with the dragons for anything else. As the night got later, Sam eventually decided to return home. Frodo offered to walk him home and Sam turned down his offer.

“There’d be no one to walk _you_ back, then,” Sam explained earnestly. Frodo smiled at Sam’s logic and bid him goodnight.

**x**

They had a few days of rest and recuperation before the festivities truly got underway, but nevertheless, the arrival of the dragon riders seemed to always stir the hobbits into a frenzy. At least it was more of a positive buzz surrounding the dragons now that most of the hobbits were accustomed to the appearance of the dragons and those who rode them.

The day before the celebration was scheduled to start, Fíli, Kíli, and Frodo brought their dragons out to the field under the party tree as the decorations were being put up. Thorin knew Vídar wasn’t sociable enough to bring out and would probably spook easily with that many curious hobbits around. Vírún wasn’t as docile with people she didn’t know and Dís was worried she could accidentally hurt another hobbit, so both of those dragons remained in the stables.

Azrâkul and Brísi and Brúni, however, loved being the center of attention. They were extremely cautious and ensured their movements wouldn’t startle the hobbits. A few of the hobbits who were somewhat familiar with the dragons ventured forward to greet them and Frodo reminded them all of the best way to approach a dragon.

“I still wouldn’t recommend going after a wild one, of course,” Frodo explained as one of his youngest cousins, Pippin, stared at the dragon with wide-eyes and an awed smile. “I have my family and the others to back me up and help me take in new wild dragons.”

“Aw, Frodo, c’mon, I want a dragon,” Pippin complained. “You gotta teach me how to get one.” Azrâkul gave a loud sigh and startled Sam, who quickly grabbed a hold of Frodo’s hand. Frodo gently squeezed his friend’s hand to assure him that it was safe before turning to reply to Pippin’s begging.

“Sorry, Pip,” Frodo sighed. “I don’t think Aunt Eglantine would be too happy if you brought a dragon home.”

“Can we at least ride _your_ dragon?” Merry asked enthusiastically.

“I suppose that wouldn’t be too bad if we stayed close to the ground.” Frodo’s expression lit up, excited to show off and give his cousin a taste of flying.

“Oh, I want a go!” Pippin cried.

“Oi, parent permission first,” Fíli reminded his cousin. “We’re not taking any adolescent hobbits for a ride until their parents are asked.”

“Fíli, my mother would never agree to this, let’s just do it. Asking forgiveness is always easier than asking permission, right?” Merry tried to plead with the dwarf.

“Absolutely not, Meriadoc Brandybuck!” Fíli scolded the hobbit. As if on cue, both Eglantine Took and Esmeralda Brandybuck appeared as they cautiously made their way to where their sons had been spending the entire evening. They must have seen the two boys begging and pleading their case to the dwarves.

“Are they giving you grief?” Eglantine asked. “I know Pip can be a handful when he’s excited like this.”

“We unfairly dumped them on you. It’s just...they’ve been asking nonstop to see you since we heard you’d arrived with your dragons for this year's Midsummer celebrations,” Esmeralda apologized. Frodo smiled and greeted his aunts innocently.

Both of the young hobbits’ parents had become fairly comfortable around the dragons, as Merry and Pippin were always so eager to see the dragons and their cousin. Eventually, the two hobbit mothers decided instead of forbidding their children from spending time with their cousin, they would familiarize themselves with the dragons to determine if there was any cause for too much concern.

They seemed to enjoy the dragons too, but Frodo was aware of how hobbit mothers could be fiercely protective. He wondered if they’d ever allow Merry and Pippin on the back of one of their dragons.

“Oh, Mum, please, you’ve got to let us ride on Frodo’s dragon. It’s safe, he does it all the time! So do his dwarf cousins! If his dwarf cousins can do it, so can we!”  Pippin pleaded.

“Yes, but they’re _dwarves,_ ” Esmeralda frowned at the young hobbits.

“What’s going on?” Thorin asked as he approached, seeing the hobbit women looking concerned as they talked to the younger hobbits.

“Merry and Pip seem to want to ride a dragon,” Eglantine explained as she raised her eyebrows at her son after he’d pleaded his case.

“Would you deem the dragons safe enough for our children, Master Oakenshield?” Esmeralda asked.

“Well, they are safe enough for mine and we’ve worked with them for well over five years now,” Thorin admitted. “Why don’t Fíli and Kíli take them on their dragon? That way they both get to ride. My nephews are very responsible dwarves,” Thorin added, casting a glance to Fíli and Kíli who nodded enthusiastically. “Would that be all right?” Thorin asked and the two hobbit women glanced at one another before agreeing.

“You must stay within eyesight, please, Master Fíli,” Esmeralda instructed. “Just stay over the field, please.”

“Of course,” Fíli agreed. “I think even Brísi and Brúni are excited.” Fíli went to adjust the saddle on Brúni’s long neck.  

“Would you like to ask your mother to go on a ride with me, Sam?” Frodo asked. Sam looked at the dragon and took a deep breath in and exhaled.

“I think I’d like to keep my feet firmly on the ground, thank you very much,” Sam decided. “I’ll be happy to watch.” Frodo gave his friend a small smile of understanding.

As Fíli and Kíli helped the hobbits onto their dragon, Frodo prepared his own saddle atop Azrâkul. Even though he was a little disappointed he wouldn’t be able to take anyone on their first dragon ride, he still wanted to ride alongside them. Once the hobbits were settled, the Zippleback prepared to take flight. Once Fíli and Kíli had taken off, Frodo prompted Azrâkul to follow and the Timberjack excitedly chased after the Zippleback, playfully flying circles around Brísi and Brúni.

The hobbits down below watched them in awe and Frodo couldn’t help but show off a little. Since he didn’t have another hobbit with him he was able to attempt a few of his tricks he’d trained Azrâkul to do. The Timberjack chirped in excitement as they pulled out of a spinning dive and Frodo could hear the hobbits on the ground gasp. Frodo grinned proudly to himself as he did one or two more loops in the air before evening out beside his cousins.

“Show off!” Kíli shouted with a laugh. They spent a little more time in the air but soon the wind picked up and they spotted a thunderstorm rolling in. They all decided to head for the ground before it got any worse.

The hobbit boys were shuttled back to their mothers and the dragons were quickly brought back to their stables behind the Green Dragon as the first raindrops began to fall.

“I’ll be back to check on you later,” Frodo promised as they bid goodbye to the dragons and hurried inside where it was warm and dry. However, it seemed as if every other hobbit had the same idea and had packed into the Green Dragon to avoid the heavy rainstorm that had come on so suddenly.

“Oh, all the decorations are going to be ruined,” one hobbit lass sighed in defeat.

“Why don’t we go sit down? Fíli and Kíli went to go try to get us some food,” Dís suggested, gently guiding Frodo further into the inn.

Finally finding a corner that was hidden away from most of the bustle of the hobbits, they sat and enjoyed the food Fíli and Kíli had eventually attained. The rain continued to pound on the roof above and it didn’t sound as if it planned on letting up anytime soon.

“I wonder if all of these hobbits are going to stay here tonight. Surely there’s not enough rooms for them all,” Kíli wondered aloud.

“They’ll have to roll out blankets and pillows here in the public part of the inn,” Fíli chuckled.

“Do you think Azrâkul and the others are going to be okay tonight in the storm?” Frodo asked his uncle softly.

“I’m sure they’re okay,” Thorin assured him. “They have each other to keep warm and if I know anything about your dragon, I’m sure he’s doing his best to shield the others from the downpour with that wingspan of his.”

Just as they were about to turn in for the night there was a loud crash outside that sounded like deafening thunder accompanied by a guttural roar that could only come from a dragon. It was silent for a moment as they all stared at each other and eventually the warning bells began to sound. Frodo’s hand instinctively went to his Aunt’s and clasped it firmly.

“It’s all right, dear,” Dís murmured as Thorin jumped out of his seat.

“Thorin?” Fíli called after him.

Thorin grabbed his cloak and ran to the door of the inn. He heard one of the hobbits call out to him that it wasn’t safe.

Initially, Thorin meant to go check on their dragons to see if they had been the ones to cause the commotion. But before he could turn and make his way towards the stables, his eyes spotted movement over in the party field.

Across the water he could see the flailing of wings in the moonlight. The noise hadn’t been caused by their dragons at all. The storm had downed another dragon and it had made its emergency landing in the field by the party tree, decimating some of the decorations that had already been put up.

Without much thought, Thorin took off across the bridge and followed the muddy path around the lake to where the dragon had landed. It groaned in agony as it tried to right itself. Thorin called to the dragon, speaking calming words in Khuzdul. He wasn’t sure if the dragon could hear him over the howling wind but eventually it stopped struggling. Its chest was heaving and Thorin could hear the labored breathing of the beast.

“What happened to you?” Thorin asked softly as he watched the dragon lay still and the rain continued to beat down upon them. He didn’t recognize this type of dragon. It was larger than most of the others they had in Ered Luin and it wasn’t one he had seen before. It had two spines that branched out over its eyes almost like enormous eyebrows and its eyes and face were almost like that of a tomcat or an owl. The rain continued to pour down but Thorin didn’t want to leave its side. Something was wrong. If anything else, he wanted to know more about this bizarre type of dragon. Frodo would surely want to document it and anything else Thorin could learn from it. He cursed under his breath.

“It’s okay,” Thorin called as he reached forward slowly as he had seen Frodo do a hundred times before. The dragon flinched and let out a warning growl. Thorin backed away and wiped the rain out of his eyes, surveying the dragon. As he continued to think through how he could possibly help the dragon, he realized suddenly the rain and wind had lessened.

Turning around, Thorin spotted Frodo accompanied by Azrâkul and the Timberjack had raised its wings to shield them from the wind.

“What kind of dragon is this?” Frodo called, standing beside Thorin.

“I was rather hoping you could tell me,” Thorin replied, wiping away the raindrops that still clung to his face.

“I’ve never seen anything like it and Bilbo doesn’t have this dragon documented in his journal,” Frodo explained. “I don’t think I’ve seen it in Aunt Belladonna’s journal either. What’s wrong with it?”

“Look, Frodo, I know about as much as you do right now,” Thorin sighed as he squinted back through the darkness to determine if the rest of his family was behind Frodo or not.

“What are we going to do?” Frodo asked.

“We’ve...we’ve got to take care of it, right? Obviously, something is wrong,” Thorin explained.

“Yes,” Frodo nodded wiping rain out of his eyes.

Quickly Dís, Fíli and Kíli came out to see what had happened and were amazed to see this unidentified type of dragon collapsed in the middle of the hobbits’ decorations for Midsummer’s Eve.

“Do we know what’s wrong?” Dís asked as she knelt beside the dragon.

“No,” Thorin shook his head. “If I had to guess I would say it was probably struck by lightning and crashed.”

“ _Mahal,_ ” Fíli breathed.

“Do you know what kind of dragon it is?” Kíli asked Frodo over the sound of the rain.

“I’m not sure,” Frodo shook his head. Dís then stood up and looked around.

“Let’s see if we can do something about this rain,” Dís called to them. Azrâkul rumbled in response to Dís’ suggestion. “Yes, you’re doing a fine job, but we need a little more coverage.” With the help of her sons, Dís was able to maneuver one of the hobbits’ tents over to where they were and positioned it to try and block the dragon from the rain.

None of them were able to do much for the dragon except move the tents around to try to ensure the rain wasn’t showering onto the dragon. Azrâkul provided what little heat he could, but there was only so much he could do in the icy rain. Eventually the rain let up and by the time dawn broke the next morning, none of them had slept and they were all drenched by the cold rain. But none of them had wanted to leave the dragon’s side.

The celebrations were eventually postponed due to the fact there was now a fairly large dragon sitting in the middle of their party field that wasn’t able to be removed. The injured dragon was still quite defensive and refused to move from its spot.

The hobbits, although disappointed by the postponement, were relieved to have their dragon experts there to handle the situation.

The only time they got a proper look at the dragon was when it seemingly passed out from exhaustion. There were a few fresh, oddly shaped burn marks on its skin, possibly from the lightning strike.

“I don’t know the extent of any internal injuries, but I would imagine if we put a salve or something on the burns, it should be on the mend soon,” Frodo explained, standing beside Thorin as Thorin gently observed the marks.

“She,” Thorin corrected Frodo. “She should be on the mend soon.”

“She?” Frodo raised his eyebrows. He gently smiled at his uncle who was genuinely very concerned for this dragon and its—her—well-being.

It was several more days of taking turns watching the dragon and tending to it the best they could before they gained the dragon’s trust and she was able to move a little more. She was slow moving but the dwarves were finally able to make her more comfortable off of the party field. The dragon was much too large to fit inside the stables but they were able to craft a makeshift lean-to shelter out of the destroyed party tents against the stable their dragons were staying in.

Dís apologized profusely to the committee of hobbits who had been in charge of setting up the Midsummer celebration decor for utilizing the lavish tents.

“Don’t worry, dear, they would have all been useless after the storm, regardless,” Missus Burrows patted the dwarrowdam’s arm consolingly.

“They could have been dried and repaired in time,” Mister Fairfoot grumbled. “Now they’re being used to shelter the ruddy dragon that fell and destroyed half of the field’s decor…”

“Are there not any backups in case of inclement weather?” Dís asked, anxiously.

“Not a whole lot but we can probably make due with whatever we have left in storage,” Miss Cotton explained.

“I believe the only thing left in storage are the tents we use for Yule!” Missus Burrows exclaimed.

“Well, we’ll have to have a Yule themed Midsummer celebration, perhaps?” Dís suggested.

“Quite unorthodox,” Mister Fairfoot commented.

“Everything that’s happened around here since we’ve had dwarves around has been unorthodox to you, let’s just continue the tradition!” Miss Cotton exclaimed.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Miss Cotton,” Dís smiled kindly at the hobbit. “Rest assured, we’ll help with anything we can.”

“Oh, dear, you and your family aren’t to blame for the dragon’s disruption. In fact, we should all be grateful that you were here, I’m not sure what we all would have done with that brute of a dragon that crash-landed in our field,” Missus Burrowes assured the dwarves.

Thorin looked a little irked at the hobbits and heaved a sigh.

“My sister is right. Anything that we can assist with, we’ll be happy to help,” Thorin agreed, though Frodo didn’t think that he wore a very agreeable expression.

It wasn’t very long until the hobbits were resetting the party decorations in the field after they had cleaned up. The dwarves gladly helped where they could and soon the postponed celebration was upon them.

For the first time in years, Thorin spent most of the celebration among the hobbits. Many of them had questions about the dragon that had interrupted their celebration and questions about dragons in general.

He gladly entertained their questions and even allowed Dís to pull him out and dance among the hobbits. When the celebrations finally came to an end they returned to the Green Dragon, but before they entered the inn, Thorin separated from the group. Frodo hesitated before following his uncle around towards the stables where their dragons were staying.

Thorin realized Frodo was following him and smiled down at his nephew.

“Are you going to check on the dragon?” Frodo asked quietly as they followed the faint glow of the torches and lanterns outside of the inn.

“I thought I might,” Thorin smiled down at Frodo. “I suppose you’d want to join me, then?”

Frodo smiled at his uncle and gave him an enthusiastic nod in response.

**x**

Soon another week had passed and the dragon was beginning to make progress healing. The dwarves were considering packing up soon, but when Dís asked Thorin about when they should prepare to leave, he lashed out at her.

“Nangûna isn’t ready to go anywhere, Dís,” Thorin argued. “You know that.”

“Nangûna?” Dís frowned and Thorin looked embarrassed and a little shocked that the name had come out of his mouth so easily. “Is that a name...for the mysterious dragon we’ve got outside?”

Thorin mumbled an inaudible answer.

“I told you we’d be taking the dragon home,” Frodo nudged his aunt. Dís sighed and rubbed at the scar that cut across her blinded eye. “So why Nangûna?” Frodo asked. “It’s...derived from Khuzdul, isn’t it? I don’t know if I recognize the word it comes from.”

Thorin blushed and mumbled.

“It’s derived from our word for ‘iris,’” Dís happily explained.

“A floral name?” Frodo perked up with a smile to his uncle who only seemed to turn an even more alarming shade of pink.

“We found her in the Shire,” Thorin finally explained. “It’s fitting. Besides, the crest on her head is reminiscent of a flower… an iris if I’m not mistaken, don’t you think?”

“It’s nice,” Frodo agreed.

“There’s still much to discuss,” Dís sighed. “We don’t have the provisions to stay much longer. We can restock supplies now for a trip home, but we only have so much money…” Dís explained.

“If I need to, I could take on some work here in the Shire for a week or two just to pay for those provisions,” Thorin explained. Dís sighed.

“I need to get home, Thorin. I’ve made arrangements for my duties to be taken care of this week, but no longer,” Dís argued.

“You go home then,” Thorin growled. “I’m staying here until Nangûna is healed and we know she’ll be able to accompany us home.” Then after a pause Thorin added softly, “I think she’d like it there.”  

Dís grumbled.

“I don’t think it will be difficult to convince her,” Frodo explained to his aunt and uncle. “Nangûna seems to have taken a liking to Vídar. Hopefully their companionship will encourage Nangûna to accompany us home.”

“His antisocial dragon is friends with the new one?” Dís raised her eyebrows with a chuckle. “Both you and your dragon warmed up considerably fast to her.” Dís turned to her brother. “I understand if you want to stay and care for your new dragon, but I really do have to get home, Thorin.”

“Take Fíli and Kíli home with you,” Thorin told her. “I don’t want you flying home alone.”

“You sure you don’t want them to stay and work with you, if you need?” Dís asked.

“Frodo and I will manage,” Thorin assured her. “Right, Frodo?” Thorin turned to his nephew and Frodo readily agreed.

With that settled, Dís and Fíli and Kíli soon left the Shire, leaving Thorin and Frodo behind. As he had suggested, Thorin took on several smithing jobs around town, helping hobbits with whatever they needed. Occasionally, Frodo would join Thorin in the local forge as his uncle worked, but most of the time he took Azrâkul out to fly. Eventually, Frodo had convinced Sam to take a ride with him. He’d spent plenty of time assuring Sam—and Sam’s mother—that they would stay close to the ground and wouldn’t go too fast.

Eventually, they worked up in speed and height and soon they were flying above the Shire, Sam clinging desperately to Frodo.

“It sure is a splendid sight, but I really do prefer the earth under my feet,” Sam remarked.

“Oh, Sam,” Frodo chuckled as he guided them back towards the ground. Sam collapsed onto the ground and gave a large sigh of relief, his fingers clutching at the grass beneath him. Azrâkul swung his head around to check on the hobbit that had fallen from his back and gave a throaty chuckle at the sight of Sam splayed out in the grass.

“Oi,” Sam sat up and glared at the dragon. “You’re the one responsible, don’t you go laughing at poor Sam.”

“That just means he likes you,” Frodo smiled as he patted the dragon and dismounted, going to lay beside Sam in the grass.

“You really are a wonder, aren’t you?” Sam finally looked up from where he had buried his face into the grass.

“What do you mean, Sam?” Frodo asked, with an embarrassed smile pulling at his lips and a blush beginning to burn on his cheeks.

“The dragons… all of it,” Sam sighed, rolling onto his back completely. “You are a wonder…” Sam sighed closing his eyes completely. Frodo picked a few blades of grass and sprinkled them on Sam’s face, who sputtered and sat up at the sensation of grass deposited on his face.

“I take it back. You’re a _menace,_ Frodo Baggins,” Sam laughed as he wiped a hand over his face to clear off all the grass. Frodo laughed and reached over to clasp Sam’s hand in an attempt to apologize. They laid there for while laughing and talking with each other, hand in hand, as the sun began to set.

**x**

A few more weeks passed and soon their time in the Shire was coming to a close. Thorin and Frodo had been able to nurse the dragon back to full health and Thorin was proud of how attached the dragon had become. Vídar seemed a little jealous of the attention Thorin was giving her, but was relatively unaffected since he seemed to enjoy Nangûna’s presence as well.

Frodo bid goodbye to Sam and promised he’d try to get back as soon as possible. These promises were getting a little easier to keep with the Shire so much more accessible on the back of a dragon.

On the morning of their departure, they finished securing their dragons’ saddles and packing last minute supplies in the early dawn light. Nangûna seemed confused by what was happening and watched them anxiously. Thorin tried to soothe her the best he could, while trying to explain to her what was happening.

As the sun was rising fully, they mounted their dragons. The dragons seemed to want to help Nangûna understand as well. They chirped sounds of encouragement to the larger dragon as they slowly lifted off the ground. Nangûna spread her four massive wings, which made an impressive ‘x’ shape as she flew. Frodo looked to his uncle who positively beamed to see the dragon flying and following them home.

Nangûna followed after them playfully swerving in and out of their dragons. Frodo laughed and was glad they were able to bring home a new addition to their dragon family.

Although Frodo had enjoyed the extended stay in the Shire, he was glad to see Ered Luin in his sights. Luckily Nangûna had kept pace with them and followed them all the way home. As they drew closer to the mountains, more dragons appeared, chirping in excitement to see their return as well as the new dragon. Nangûna grew anxious when she spotted the others occupying the sky.

Nangûna was close behind and they landed just outside the dragon stables. Thorin waved her down as Frodo tried to shoo the dragons away from the new dragon.

“Give her some space, she’s new and she’s been injured!” Frodo called to the dragons as he lured them away from Nangûna’s trajectory. Azrâkul helped to herd the dragons as well with his large wingspan. Finally she landed and Thorin stepped forward to praise the dragon, who purred in response to Thorin’s words.

Frodo smiled over his shoulder at his uncle as he guided Azrâkul inside to his own stable. He could tell his dragon was exhausted from their entire day of travel.

Just as Frodo was settling Azrâkul into his stall, he turned to see Dwalin coming out of a stall just down the way with Nori. Frodo waved them down and they excitedly greeted Frodo.

“I thought Dís had said she received word that you two would be home soon. Nori and I were just down here getting measurements for his own dragon saddle,” Dwalin explained. “How long have you been here? Where’s Thorin?” Dwalin asked.

“We just got here and Thorin’s outside with his new dragon,” Frodo grinned broadly.

“Ah, that’s right,” Dwalin chuckled, slightly rolling his eyes.

“New dragon?” Nori asked curiously. “You went to the _Shire_ to get a new dragon?”

“Well, we didn’t intend for it to happen,” Frodo explained.

“This dragon apparently fell right out of the sky during a lightning storm just before their celebrations. They had to postpone everything because the dragon decimated the decorations,” Dwalin explained.

“It’s why we stayed in the Shire longer than Aunt Dís or Fíli and Kíli,” Frodo chimed in. “Thorin’s taking a liking to this new dragon and didn’t want to leave until she was healed enough to leave with us.”

“And this new dragon just followed you home now did she?” Nori asked.

“I told you, she’s grown attached to Thorin,” Frodo shrugged. “Now, come on, you have to come see her. We’ll probably be making a new saddle for this dragon so you should come see her anyway,” Frodo insisted, grabbing Dwalin’s arm to eagerly guide him outside.

“Ach, okay, okay!” Dwalin allowed Frodo to pull him along.  When they stepped out into the sunlight they spotted Thorin with Vídar and Nangûna as a curious Gronkle checked out the new dragon. Nangûna expanded her wings to stretch them a little bit and the sudden movement startled the Gronkle who leapt up into the air and scurried back inside the mountain.

“Mahal,” Nori breathed, catching sight of the impressive four-winged dragon.

“She certainly is unique,” Dwalin remarked, spotting his cousin with a broad smile on his face. “And Thorin’s… _beaming,_ ” Dwalin barked with laughter. Thorin finally turned and spotted them making their way into the clearing.

“Dwalin, Nori,” Thorin greeted them pleasantly.

“Looks like your trip to the Shire did you well,” Nori commented. “For you and your unique dragon find.”

“This is Nangûna,” Thorin introduced them as Nangûna stepped towards the new dwarves curiously.

“Hello there,” Dwalin replied stiffly. After all this time, Dwalin was still a bit jumpy around the dragons. This time Frodo assumed it might be because Nangûna was unlike any of their other dragons in the mountain.

“You said this beauty crashed landed in the Shire during a storm?” Nori asked as he took in the sight of the dragon.

“Struck by lightning we think,” Thorin replied before pointing out the unique lightning spray scarring on her skin.

“You nursed her back to health then?” Dwalin asked. “She seems awfully comfortable with you and vice versa.”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t just me,” Thorin quickly shook his head. “Frodo helped quite a bit too.”

“It was mostly Thorin,” Frodo quickly rebuked. “He has a soft spot for her,” Frodo whispered loudly to Dwalin and Nori, with a proud look on his face. Thorin couldn’t hide his sheepish look.

“Are you going to start riding her now?” Nori asked. “What will become of your Rumblehorn?”

“I don’t think Nangûna is quite ready for riding lessons just yet, I want to see if she really will stay with us, and even allow me to ride her,” Thorin clarified. “But in time, I would absolutely love to have her as my mount… and as for Vídar, I’ve given that quite a bit of thought as well. I feel bad for him,” Thorin continued. “But in the end I think he should go to Dwalin.” Thorin announced. “Keep him in the family so to speak.”

Frodo looked over to Dwalin with excited anticipation and watched as the color drained from Dwalin’s face.

“Do you want to make sure Dwalin’s going to accept that gift?” Nori asked with a smirk.

“I think he will,” Thorin gave an expectant smile to his cousin. “You’ve only been making saddles for the beasts for ages. I think you should try it out. Vídar is a mild tempered dragon around those he’s comfortable with and Mahal knows he’s comfortable with you.”

“Oh, no,” Dwalin shook his head. “I couldn’t.” Dwalin positively bristled at the thought.

“Dwalin, are you going to allow Vídar to be abandoned?” Frodo prodded him teasingly.

“I think that’s Thorin’s problem, don’t you think?” Dwalin returned Frodo’s question.

“Ah, stop bein’ such a stick in the mud, Dwalin!” Nori enthusiastically patted Dwalin’s back. “It’d do you some good to actually get some use out of your own saddles.”

“I’d prefer it if my feet stayed on the ground,” Dwalin grumbled and Frodo snickered at him.

“That’s exactly what my friend Sam says,” Frodo explained with a smile.

“Well, that boy has some common sense in him,” Dwalin retorted. “I can’t believe I’m being pushed into _riding dragons,_ of all things, by my own cousin!” Dwalin groused.

“You know if I can do it, so can you,” Thorin assured him.

“All right, we’ll see,” Dwalin finally gave in. “But you said yourself, it’ll be a little while before she’s ready to be ridden. I’ve got two other saddle orders in besides Nori’s so it’ll be a while before I can make a saddle for you,” Dwalin explained.

“Just as well,” Thorin agreed. “It’ll give her a little more time to adjust to her new life here.” Thorin looked back to Nangûna with a smile. Dwalin rolled his eyes and Frodo smiled warmly at his uncle.

**x**

Weeks continued to pass as Nangûna got more comfortable around the other dragons and the dwarves as well.

“Do you think she had family?” Frodo asked as they watched the dragons play out in the clearing outside the gate.

“I dunno,” Thorin muttered. “I imagine she would have gone back to them if she did.”

“What if she couldn’t find them after she was separated from them in the storm?” Frodo questioned.

“I suppose they would have come looking for her or she would be able to trail their scent, no?” Thorin shrugged.

“I suppose. Not all dragons are so good at tracking as Vídar is, though,” Frodo sighed.

“What spurred this?” Thorin asked in a gentle tone.

“I just… I often wonder if Azrâkul had family. I mean, dragons do travel in groups, do they not?” Frodo looked to his uncle.

“You tell me, you’re the dragon expert,” Thorin diverted the question.

“I mean we see them travel that way. There’s even a few groupings that we have here in Ered Luin,” Frodo explained as he pointed out a trio of Nadders that Vírún had joined. “Some of them came in a group and some of them have formed groups since we’ve gotten them.”

“I’d hate to think that some of our own dragons would be missing their family, but maybe they were on their own when we found them… for whatever reason. For example, Azrâkul was sick when you found him. Maybe they believed he’d die and abandoned him, as cruel as that sounds. And we know next to nothing about Nangûna’s kind. They could be solitary dragons by nature,” Thorin suggested.

“I suppose,” Frodo agreed, half-heartedly.

“If there were any others out there looking for our dragons they’d find a way back to them, I’m sure,” Thorin assured the hobbit.

“What if they do come and find them and they don’t approve of us? Will we have a dragon war on our hands?” Frodo mused aloud.

“Mahal’s beard, I hope not,” Thorin chuckled. “I should hope that we would have already encountered that if it was going to be a problem. The fact that we haven’t tells me that it’s unlikely to happen at all. But maybe that’s a point we need to bring up during council tonight,” Thorin remarked. Frodo groaned and rolled his eyes.

“How do you think I should start that one?” Frodo asked with a small chuckle. “‘What’s everyone’s opinions on the possibility of our dragons having a family who’s looking for them and how does everyone feel about a dragon war? How would we like to handle dragon families waging war on us because we’ve befriended their lost companions?’”

Thorin grinned at his nephew, gently nudging him.

“Speaking of council, we’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon,” Thorin sighed as he stood up. He offered a hand to Frodo, who gladly took it. “Let’s get the dragons back inside the mountain and we’ll head that way, hm?”

Once they had said goodbye to their dragons, they made their way through the stalls and back out to the main part of Ered Luin. They met Fíli, Kíli, and Dís just outside the meeting hall.

“We weren’t sure if you were going to make it or not,” Fíli laughed. “Thought you might have gotten carried away with your dragon riding.”

“We almost did,” Thorin remarked.

“Oh, but I thought we’d be back before we had to leave for the meeting. All my notes are at home,” Frodo realized.

“No, they’re not.” Dís handed him his most recent journal.

“What a relief,” Frodo smiled at his aunt. “Thank you.” They made their way into the meeting and took their seats, greeting the others.

Frodo’s role in council had only grown since more dwarves made the decision to bond and fly with dragons. As dragons became a larger part of their society, Frodo became more involved with council and the politics surrounding the dragons of Ered Luin.

More and more dwarves had been interested in learning how to fly the dragons, which had led to a shortage of dragons. They’d only had a few select dragons when they had started and those were quickly claimed by the dwarves who wished to help befriend the dragons.

The wild dragons were still skittish around the area and very slow to come to Ered Luin on their own, still fearing attacks by the dwarves if they got too close.

The dwarves had been working on a solution for a long time, from putting out more fish outside of the mountain to entice more dragons and extending stables outside the gate into the clearing. A few dragons had come and gone, and a few others came and stayed. But it wasn’t enough.

Frodo had been pushing for a long time to allocate more time and resources be put into the dragon living spaces and slowly they had made progress towards expanding the dragon areas inside the mountain as well. With the expansion for the dragons to meet the demand, they now actually needed more dragons to occupy those spaces.

“To meet our demand for dragons, I’m suggesting dragon hunting parties, but not dragon hunting as it used to be,” Frodo explained when it was his turn to speak during the meeting. “Those of us who are accustomed to riding will take our dragons out to try to entice more dragons to come back to the mountains. Perhaps we’ll find some families of dragons who would like to make their home here,” Frodo explained, his gaze turning to Thorin for a brief moment and Thorin smiled at him.

“Do you think we can entice other dragons to come live in the mountains that easily?” one dwarf questioned.

“We’re not entirely sure how dragons communicate with each other, but I’m hoping if they can see our dragons with their riders, then they’ll be curious and at the very least be unaggressive with us,” Frodo replied. “We still aren’t getting enough dragons for everyone who wants to learn how to ride, so for right now, this is our best shot at accumulating more dragons in the meantime. Our lures of fish and stable housing outside the mountain isn’t enough.”

“Dís and myself will be the first party to go and search for dragons to see if it’s at all possible,” Thorin interjected. Frodo looked at Thorin with a disappointed glance, but didn’t protest. He could do so after the meeting.

Frodo had been so proud that the council was beginning to see him as more than a child and he wasn’t going to prove them wrong by whining to Thorin in the middle of council that he wanted to be part of the first party to go. He could already play out the argument in his mind and Frodo knew he wouldn’t win. After all this time, Thorin was still ridiculously protective of him.

There were a few more questions asked about the dragons and soon the topic moved away from the beasts and onto other pressing matters. Eventually, the meeting wrapped up and Frodo organized his notes as Thorin continued a side conversation with Balin. Bofur sidled up to Frodo, taking a seat in the unoccupied chair beside him. Frodo turned and gave Bofur a friendly smile.

“I can tell you’re upset that Thorin doesn’t want you going on the first party out to go find dragons,” Bofur observed with an amused smile.

“Was I that obvious?” Frodo gave a small frown as he turned towards the miner.

“Bifur and I have signed up to be one of the next couple parties out. Maybe you’d like to join us?” Bofur asked.

“I probably should check with Thorin. He’ll probably tell me that I’m not allowed to go at all,” Frodo groused. Thorin perked up at the sound of his name.

“What is it that I’m not allowing you to go do?” Thorin turned, the conversation piquing his interest when he heard his name.

“That you won’t allow me to go out on dragon searching parties even though I am the one who came up with the idea,” Frodo muttered. Thorin’s shoulders fell and he gave an exasperated sigh.

“You know I don’t want you out on a mission that we don’t even know is going to work yet or understand how dangerous it is,” Thorin tried to patiently explain. “I understand it’s frustrating for you to lead our progress with the dragons, and not be allowed certain aspects of it, but that’s how it is for now. We’ll talk about it once Dís and I complete our trip.”

“I’ve offered for him to come with Bifur and I when we go on our trip out,” Bofur explained.

“Again, we’ll talk about it,” Thorin said, flatly, giving Bofur an aggravated look. Bofur merely shrugged and patted Frodo on the shoulder before bidding them goodbye and going to find his cousin among the others. Frodo turned and frowned at Thorin, who only offered an exhausted sigh before collecting his things.

“When will you stop acting like I constantly need to be protected?” Frodo complained as he fell into step with Thorin as they left the meeting hall.

“Never,” Thorin gave the hobbit a wan smile.

“That’s not funny, Uncle Thorin.” Frodo rolled his eyes. “I’m nearly an adult!”

“You still have a couple more years to go,” Thorin reminded him. “You’ve already grown up much too fast. I remember when you were barely ten years old. Now look at you.”

“I’m not ten years old anymore though,” Frodo argued. “I feel as if you still see me as such.”

“You’ll always remain that ten year old little boy to us,” Dís chuckled. “My boys are still my boys, after all.”

“We’re adults too, ‘Amad,” Kíli groaned.

“You, barely,” Dís chuckled. “Don’t think that I don’t still see you and Fili as my little pebbles.”

 _“‘Amad,”_ Kíli moaned again.

“Such cute little pebbles,” Thorin grinned at Kíli who looked completely exasperated with all of them.

“They don’t have to ask your permission to go do things though,” Frodo complained, shrugging off the teasing tone that everyone else was taking.

“I still talk things through with both ‘Amad and Uncle Thorin and seek their advice before I attempt to act recklessly,” Fíli teased his hobbit cousin.

“Thank you, Fíli,” Thorin nodded to his eldest nephew. “And I must remind you that you do usually get your way, in time. Patience, Frodo,” Thorin chuckled. Frodo sighed and nodded.

“Now let’s talk about dinner, which is a far more pressing matter, don’t you think Frodo?” Dís smiled over at her nephew as Frodo lit up at the mention of dinner.

“Yes, please,” Frodo agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone still wondering, the 'New Kind of Dragon' is indeed a Stormcutter like Valka's. It was one of my favorite ideas from the very early planning stages of this fic that Thorin had a ~majestic~ Stormcutter. A dragon fit for a king, if you will. :D 
> 
> The next two chapters are pretty well established (minus some more revision and fleshing out) thanks to progress through NaNoWriMo this year and I've laid the groundwork for another chapter or two after that and hohoh boy I'm excited. Get ready for EVEN MORE time skips. :)) 
> 
> As always thank you to [Kate](http://anunexpectedjourney.tumblr.com) who continues to be a terrific beta and you can follow me on tumblr [here](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Happy Holidays everyone!


	21. Traveling East

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since we're dealing with a bit of travel this chapter I just wanted to post up my [AU map](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com/post/107350750638/a-general-idea-of-how-i-imagine-the-map-of) once again to remind y'all that this AU Middle-Earth has a little bit different geography to fit with the Nordic island setting of the HTTYDverse. Enjoy!

Time continued to pass and more dwarves took up dragon riding. Even Dwalin was getting more comfortable with the idea of riding and he bonded with Vídar almost instantly. Thorin was right, the dragon was comfortable with Dwalin from all the time Dwalin spent with the dragons, despite not being a rider himself. Vídar was also used to to idea of having a rider, so Dwalin hadn’t needed to worry about that aspect of flying. This made for a relatively easy transition for both Vídar and Dwalin and soon the two had bonded. Now Frodo could swear that Dwalin was beginning to enjoy riding. 

Along with the miracle of getting Dwalin on the back of a dragon, more and more dwarves were growing accustomed to riding. 

Frodo’s dragon hunting parties were more or less a success as the dragon population began to rise over time. Almost all aspects of life in Ered Luin accommodated the dragons and their riders somehow. Of course, there were only a small amount of dragons and riders that were allowed to fly within the mountain. Only those dragons who were instrumental to jobs throughout the settlement were allowed to fly, in order to keep the airspace in the mountain unclogged and not so dangerous. 

Two additional large gates were crafted into the mountainside to allow more dragons and riders to come and go more easily. With the growing rate of riders, the one gate was often congested. 

As seasons flew by and they were all committed to working with the dragons and further adapting their lives alongside them, Frodo continued to grow as he finally neared adulthood. His thirty-third birthday was looming on the horizon and his family was planning how to celebrate. 

“How about we go to the Shire for Midsummer celebrations like we always do and then throw Frodo a grand party here in Ered Luin?” Kíli suggested. “I mean his birthday isn’t so far after Midsummer, it would be a little redundant to go to the Shire twice in the span of a couple months.”

“How about we actually ask Frodo what he wants?” Dís rolled her eyes at her son. “So, Frodo? What do you want to do for your birthday?” 

“Well, I would certainly like to go celebrate Midsummer again, per tradition,” Frodo agreed. “I know some years we have gone to the Shire to celebrate my birthday as well, and I don’t have a problem with it. Kíli can stay home if he’s really so disinclined to return to the Shire in September.”

“I’m not staying home,” Kíli argued. “It was only a suggestion! But let’s invite some of the others to go with us too.”

“I agree,” Frodo nodded enthusiastically. “Partially because… well, we’ve gotten away without it in the past, but this year I want to have a traditional Hobbit birthday.” 

“Traditional Hobbit birthday…? Oh, you mean give gifts instead of receive them?” Thorin questioned. 

“Yes, and I’m going to need some help crafting gifts if we’re going to have a large hobbit party,” Frodo grinned. “I can speak to Bifur to see if he’d help craft some toys and figurines for my younger cousins, and let’s see…” Frodo trailed off thinking of more ideas. 

“A proper Hobbit birthday, oh Mahal, as if we don’t have enough to plan for, now we’re planning gifts for everyone!” Dís groaned. 

“If there’s any birthday to do properly, it’s this one,” Frodo grinned broadly. 

**x**

During their trip to the Shire during Midsummer, they made the arrangements to have a party to celebrate Frodo’s coming-of-age in September. Though, for the moment, the thought of another party lingered on the horizon as they enjoyed the celebrations at hand. 

“I’m glad we’re able to come and celebrate Midsummer almost every year,” Thorin admitted quietly to Frodo as he came and sat with his uncle to keep him company after Frodo had spent nearly all night dancing with Sam and his cousins. “I do still feel a tad guilty you didn’t grow up here in the Shire.” 

“Don’t feel guilty,” Frodo shook his head. “Do you think I would have ever gotten the chance to work with the dragons if I still lived in Brandy Hall? Do you think Bilbo would have ever let me keep Azrâkul if we had lived in Bag-End? I wouldn’t have even met Azrâkul if I didn’t live in Ered Luin.” 

Thorin chuckled softly at the thought and fell into silence as he took another drink from his mug of ale. 

“You know, it’s been twenty years since Bilbo died,” Thorin reminded Frodo. 

“I did the math earlier,” Frodo admitted solemnly. “Yes.” 

“Twenty years,” Thorin repeated with a sigh. “I still think about him every day,” Thorin admitted, looking down into his ale. 

“Hm,” Frodo sighed. “I miss him, too.”

“I find it… funny, is a poor choice of words, but funny that I only knew him four years and after those four short years he changed my life so irrevocably…” Thorin trailed off. “To miss him longer than I ever knew him…” 

“I know,” Frodo sighed. “I only lived with him for five years of my life, but it feels much longer than that. Of course, I had longer with my parents, but my time with them has faded more from my memory since I was so young when they died…”

Thorin gave a sorrowful smile to the boy before Sam called to Frodo from the mass of dancing hobbits and Frodo smiled brightly at his friend in response.

“Looks like my break is over,” Frodo remarked as he set down his drink. 

“Go.” Thorin nodded to Frodo. “Go join your friend.” 

Thorin gave a small sigh, looking at Frodo, now almost a completely grown hobbit. Frodo had lost so much during his young life, yet he was still able to find so much joy. He couldn’t help but envy Frodo as he watched him join Sam out amongst the throng of hobbits and dance the rest of the night away.

**x**

Upon returning back to Ered Luin, there wasn’t much time left between Midsummer and Frodo’s birthday, as Kíli had pointed out. Frodo spent most of his days working with Dís to write out invitations to his party, and consulting many of the dwarves helping him with gifts. 

Of course, the dwarves who were helping would also require gifts and Frodo had been furiously working on those gifts with the help of Ori. 

“I want to make you one too, Ori,” Frodo explained as he finished off Bofur’s gift. “But the surprise is ruined, I suppose.” 

“I’m flattered, and I would still love to have one of your gifts, Master Frodo.” Ori bowed his head a little sardonically. Frodo grinned at his friend and briefly consulted him on his gift.

Then there was also the matter of the dragons. They were still a little stuck trying to figure out how they were going to shelter all of their dragons in the Shire without the hobbits being terrified or the dragons being uncomfortable. Finally they decided they would keep the dragons who weren’t used to staying in the Shire in Bindbole woods and their riders would hike the rest of the way in. 

When the week finally came, they travelled to the Shire and within days, tents were set up and a few hobbits worked with the Green Dragon to make the food for the feast. Finally Frodo’s birthday arrived, they finished preparing for the party, and Frodo stood waiting for Thorin to meet him at the door of their shared room at the Green Dragon. But before they could leave the room, Thorin stopped him. 

“Oh, I can’t believe we’re here…” Thorin trailed off.

“It’s not so unusual for us to be in the Shire for my birthday, especially for my coming-of-age birthday,” Frodo smiled at his old uncle, knowing full well what Thorin had meant by the statement. Thorin chuckled before giving a deep sigh. 

“I know we joke about it, but I’m serious. I still see that ten year old little hobbit that was glued to Bilbo’s side for so long because he was terrified of dragons. I can hardly believe it,” Thorin admitted. 

“Well, we all knew time would continue on as it does,” Frodo replied with a touch of sarcasm. “I suppose the dragon befriending and riding was a little bit out there, but we always knew I’d eventually grow up.”

“Ah, and that’s where you’re wrong. I was terrified for so long of losing you after Bilbo. So… I really am in disbelief that we’re here. I do wish Bilbo could be here so you could celebrate your birthdays together. He’d be just as proud of you as I am.” 

“Thank you, Uncle Thorin,” Frodo gave his uncle a small smile. “Thank you for everything. I know it was difficult for you and… and Aunt Dís to raise me after Bilbo died, but I’m glad you’re my uncle. I’m glad for everything.” 

When Thorin didn’t immediately reply, Frodo looked up and realized that Thorin was wiping tears from his eyes. 

“Look what you’ve done,” Thorin joked with a watery smile. 

“My apologies,” Frodo chuckled at Thorin’s sentimental reaction. “I hadn’t meant for you to cry before we go and celebrate.” 

In response, Thorin stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Frodo in a tight embrace, which Frodo returned. 

“I love you, so very much,” Thorin muttered. 

“I love you too, Uncle Thorin,” Frodo replied, burying his face into Thorin’s chest. For the first time in many years, he actually felt like that small ten year old hobbit that everyone kept telling him about. He felt so small and vulnerable in Thorin’s tight embrace. 

“All right, Uncle,” Frodo sighed as he gently pulled away. “Time to dry our tears. We have a party to partake in and a birthday to celebrate.” 

“Yes, we do, my lad,” Thorin smiled at him. “Lead the way.” 

The party was much smaller than the Midsummer celebrations, which Frodo expected. A few relatives from further away travelled in to help celebrate the coming of age party, but most of the attendees were from right there in Hobbiton. 

The toys and trinkets from the dwarves were a hit with the hobbits; they’d never seen craftsmanship like it. Near the end of the night Frodo finally brought out his gifts he had crafted for the dwarves. Each dwarf got a miniature unique felted dragon sculpture that mirrored their dragon companions. 

“They’re wonderful, Frodo!” Dís laughed as she studied her felt figure of Vírún.

“I wouldn’t have been able to make them in the first place without Ori’s help,” Frodo credited his friend who blushed, fidgeting with his own felted figure. 

Frodo was ultimately pleased to see his dwarven family excited by his gifts, but he was glad that he didn’t partake in this tradition every year. It was  _ exhausting. _ Before he knew it, the party was already winding down as hobbits returned to the Green Dragon or their homes there in Hobbiton. 

**x**

A few weeks later, Frodo was taking a break from helping Dwalin with a tough saddle repair when he heard his aunt enter Thorin’s smithy. As he peeked around the corner into the smithy, he could see she wore a distressed look and Frodo didn’t want to interrupt. Instead, he tuned his ears to pick up her quiet anxious voice as she explained to Thorin that the wizard had appeared once again. 

Frodo could remember the last time Gandalf had made an appearance. It was years ago… not long after Bilbo had died. Thorin had been tense and angry for several days afterwards and refused to tell Frodo what the wizard had wanted. 

At the time, Frodo just thought that Thorin was upset by the wizard coming to offer his condolences about Bilbo but he wasn’t sure why Thorin would be upset by that unless the wizard had said something insensitive. Now, Frodo was beginning to think there was something else involved with the wizard’s appearance by the way Dís and Thorin were reacting now. 

“This doesn’t bode well,” Thorin sighed when Dís broke the news. “Why is he here? The same reason as last time? I told him I would never agree!”

“I don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me and only wanted to speak to you. I was quite cross that he wouldn’t deal with me at all. I think he knows my stance on the matter of Erebor,” Dís huffed, folding her arms across her chest.

_Erebor?_ _The old mountain kingdom that his family was heir to? The one that had been taken by Smaug?_ Frodo frowned to himself. So the wizard had been there on other business after all and that business must have included Erebor. Frodo strained his ears to continue listening. 

“He should know my stance as well. Nothing he can do or say can persuade me otherwise,” Thorin growled. 

“Well, go talk to him. He’s in the meeting hall, as I said,” Dís told him. “He’s not going to leave until he’s spoken to you.” 

“All right,” Thorin muttered. “Wish me luck.” 

“Something tells me you’ll need it,” Dís retorted. Thorin began to clean his area up a little bit and cleanse himself a little in the small water basin kept in the smithy while Dís made her way over towards Dwalin’s portion of the workshop. Frodo straightened up and pretended he hadn’t just been rudely eavesdropping on their conversation. 

As Dís rounded the corner, Frodo gave a little bit of a jump. 

“I didn’t realize you were here, Aunt Dís!” Frodo exclaimed as she entered. His aunt gave him a skeptical look as if she could tell he had been eavesdropping. 

“Doesn’t look like you’re doing much to help Dwalin. Do you sit around all day as he does the work, dear nephew?” Dís asked in a sweet tone.

“No! I’m just taking a quick break! Some of the work I was just doing was exhausting me. Everyone has to take breaks,” Frodo explained and Dís gave a dry laugh and shook her head. 

“I’m going to speak to Dwalin real quick, so you enjoy your break,” Dís sighed. Frodo assumed she was going to tell Dwalin the same news she’d told Thorin.

“I think he was back behind the shop, dumping some of the scraps we had from replacing the leather on the saddle we had to repair,” Frodo explained. Dís nodded and left the leatherworking shop to go find Dwalin. 

Frodo glanced back into Thorin’s smithy to see Thorin finally leave. As Dís disappeared from view, Frodo got up and left the shop to carefully follow Thorin towards the meeting hall. His curiosity was burning and he desperately wanted to know what the old wizard — who was once friends with Bilbo’s mother — wanted with Thorin and the abandoned kingdom. 

When they reached the meeting hall, Thorin went directly inside and Frodo quickly went around the side of the building where there was a separate entrance. Frodo crept inside and stayed in one of the smaller rooms off of the meeting hall where he could have a good vantage point on the conversation and hear them fairly easily. 

Thorin greeted the wizard, hesitantly sitting down at the table.

“I am concerned by the news of your visit,” Thorin admitted as he looked at Gandalf.

“I have urgent news concerning Erebor,” Gandalf explained. “It  _ must _ be retaken, as soon as possible. Terrible things are happening are happening in the east.”

Before Thorin could even begin to form the words of protest in his mouth, Gandalf pressed on.

“What I’ve feared has come to pass,” Gandalf continued. “Bolg… Bolg the orc, spawn of Azog, is building a dragon army.”

Thorin clenched his jaw and impatiently waited for Gandalf to continue with his warnings. 

“Dark forces are turning towards the east. The forest is overcome with evil and Bolg’s forces grow ever closer to Erebor. Apparently, there are hardly any dragons left in the wilds of the north that haven’t been claimed by Bolg and his forces. The only dragons that remain untouched by the orc and his sway over the dragons are those left inhabiting Erebor under Smaug’s control.”

“Well then, we can hope that Smaug and his dragons keep hold of the mountain then,” Thorin replied dryly. “Because I am still not convinced to march my kin to certain death against the dragon that took our homeland, a nest of those dragons, and now, an entire army of dragons that answer to the spawn of the orc who wiped out most of my family.” 

“Smaug owes allegiance to no one and I am afraid that Bolg will seek to gain Smaug and the dragons as allies. For now Smaug has kept Bolg at bay and I have heard tales of the Ereboran dragons fighting Bolg’s army. But if Bolg has gained control of the other dragons, it will only be a matter of time before he takes control of them and gains Smaug.”

“If they’re fighting, let them fight. I hardly think there’s much Bolg and his dragons can do against a dragon such as Smaug,” Thorin argued.

“You don’t understand. Bolg’s numbers are staggering in preparation to take the north. If the north falls into the hands of the enemy there’s no telling how fast the evil will spread. This is bigger than your kin. I must press upon you once again that the fate for all of Middle-Earth hinges on the fate of Erebor,” Gandalf emphasized. 

From his hiding place, Frodo’s heart leapt in his chest. His stomach was tied in knots as he listened to Gandalf’s pleas and Thorin’s rebuttals. If a quest such as this was so incredibly important to the fate of the  _ world, _ why couldn’t Thorin at least consider it? However, he supposed Thorin was in the right. It seemed mad… a dragon  _ army _ . Did the wizard truly think that they could match the power of both Smaug and this dragon army and retake the mountain?

When Thorin didn’t grant Gandalf an answer and instead fixed him with an intense glare, Gandalf side-stepped the current conversation topic. 

“I see that your people have… formed an alliance with the dragons here,” Gandalf started. “I saw them as I was riding in, and I assume they saw me. Most impressive… I never thought I’d see an alliance between dwarves and dragons.” 

“I know what you are thinking and the answer is still no,” Thorin argued. “Just because we’ve found and tamed a few dragons does not mean we have the strength or power to challenge Smaug, his nest, or this dragon army.”

“You must realize, this development drastically changes the odds,” Gandalf protested. 

“The answer is still no,” Thorin repeated sternly and shook his head.

“How is it that you were able to tame the… few dragons you have here?” Gandalf asked, Thorin bit the inside of his cheek, as he considered answering Gandalf truthfully. If Gandalf had the idea that he could change things using Frodo’s strategies with the dragons, then he was more than welcome to it, but the wizard wasn’t involving him or his kin in his mad scheme. 

“Frodo found a wounded Timberjack and was able to befriend it. After that, he discovered that if we are not hostile towards them, we can befriend them and they are loyal to us.” 

“It was Frodo?” Gandalf raised his bushy eyebrows in surprise. “Bilbo’s cousin that you took in?”

“Yes. Believe me, I was just as surprised as you are,” Thorin huffed with a small smile. “After his parents were killed by dragons he was terrified of them. Even moving here and Smaug’s attack… I’m surprised he was not truly traumatized for life. Instead, he found a sick and injured Timberjack while out on patrol with my nephews and insisted it was brought back to the mountain to be tended to.” 

“Unbelievable,” Gandalf’s smile widened. “Oh, what excellent news. What if Frodo were to join you and your kin on a quest for the mountain? He could take the place I had thought of for Bilbo...” 

_ “No!” _ Thorin spat, his anger boiling over. “Absolutely not! You would not involve my husband and you  _ will not _ involve my son!”

Frodo’s chest clenched hearing Thorin so adamantly defying Gandalf and the tenacity with which Thorin referred to Frodo as his son. He had to swallow a bubble of emotion as he continued to watch the exchange. 

Gandalf looked defeated and there was a flicker of internal conflict that crossed Gandalf’s face before he spoke again. 

“There is also word of… a strange force within Erebor,” Gandalf continued. “Besides Smaug.”

“What kind of strange force?” Thorin frowned. 

“There’s rumors… that a dragon tamer lives within the mountain,” Gandalf explained quietly. “Or at least that one had. There were mixed accounts about if this tamer had died or not… or if there had been one at all. That’s the story at least, as to why the Ereboran dragons are squabbling with the ever encroaching dragon army of Bolg’s.” 

“Fairy stories. Smaug would never let a soul ‘tame’ him,” Thorin argued. “People craft these kinds of stories to pass the time or make themselves feel safer. Besides, I hardly doubt that Smaug would lay down and let the orc intimidate him into allegiance. It wouldn’t surprise me that Smaug, of his own volition, would seek to defend the mountain. It’s his nest now and he’ll defend it just as he would if my kin marched against the mountain to retake it.” 

Gandalf looked troubled by Thorin’s words and sighed. 

“There is no assurance that Smaug will continue to resist. After all, Smaug could make an allegiance with Bolg and his dragons in exchange for even greater power. There is only so much I can do,” Gandalf warned. “But the mountain must be retaken. If nothing is done and evil forces take Smaug and the Lonely Mountain, war will reign down upon all of Middle-Earth.” 

“It’s an impossible situation,” Thorin argued. “I would rather take the chance of eventual war rather than the certain guarantee that my people would die in defense of that unobtainable homeland.” 

“Very well, then,” Gandalf nodded. “You have condemned Middle-Earth.” Without another word, the wizard got up and left the meeting hall. As soon as the door shut, Thorin dropped his head into his hands. Frodo wanted to reveal himself and try to talk to Thorin, but that would only reveal that he had been eavesdropping the entire time. The wizard had been a little dramatic and unfair to Thorin. Surely not all of Middle-Earth was in danger if Thorin’s mountain kingdom fell into the hands of some orc. Finally, Thorin got up and began pacing, eventually kicking one of the stools in the hall in frustration. Frodo winced and decided now would be a good time to leave. 

Quickly thinking, he had to have an excuse as to why he left the workshop after Dís had gone to find Dwalin because he knew there’d surely be questions directed to him at dinner about his disappearance. 

Frodo quickly made his way across town to where the new training fields had been established. They had been rebuilt after the dragons stables continued to grow and spread, overtaking the old training fields. 

Frodo was relieved when he caught sight of Gimli and another dwarf practicing their axe-wielding skills. He quickly approached Gimli who caught sight of him as he entered the training area.

“Frodo, what are you up to? You haven’t brought your blade or anything with you, which tells me you’re here on business rather than training,” Gimli paused and leaned on his axe. 

“I need you to do me a favor,” Frodo explained breathlessly. “I was somewhere I probably shouldn’t have been and Aunt Dís and Uncle Thorin will be livid with me if they find out where I was. Can you cover for me if they ever ask? I want to tell them that I forgot I had agreed to spar with you this afternoon.” 

“I suppose I could,” Gimli shrugged. “But first, I want to know where you were that you shouldn’t have been.” The dwarf grinned at him slyly. 

“Gimli, please,” Frodo begged. 

“Just tell me where you were,” Gimli shrugged. Frodo groaned. 

“I was… neither of you can tell a soul.” Frodo turned Gimli’s sparring partner and made them promise before he began. Gimli nodded and nudged the young dwarrowdam he had been sparring.

“Oh, yes, of course not. We’re sworn to secrecy!” she promised. 

“I was… erm, I followed Thorin to the meeting hall to listen to a meeting I shouldn’t have,” Frodo explained vaguely.

“What? What kind of meeting was it?” Gimli asked. “You’re a part of most councils or meetings that Thorin holds any more. Why would you have to sneak around to listen in to a meeting?” 

“Ah, you know the old wizard, Gandalf? Ah, _ Tharkûn? _ ” Frodo asked. Gimli’s eyes widened and nodded in acknowledgement. “He was here and… talking to Thorin about dragons gathering in the east. Do you know about Erebor?”

“Our ancestral homeland,” Gimli muttered. “Taken by dragons many years ago. Tharkûn was here to warn that  _ more _ dragons are gathering at the mountain?”

“Sort of,” Frodo nodded. “He wanted Thorin to take our people and retake the mountain.” 

Gimli began to laugh. 

“That’s impossible!” Gimli exclaimed. 

“That’s what Thorin told him,” Frodo nodded. “But Gandalf was pretty adamant that bad things were going to happen if the dwarves don’t reclaim the mountain sooner rather than later.” 

“Ah, that’s a tough situation,” Gimli frowned.  “But it’s still impossible. I suppose Thorin was taking a ‘rather die later than now’ approach to the situation, which isn’t exactly unwise. Did Gandalf truly believe we could actually retake the mountain against those odds?”

“I’m not sure. But he did offer to help… I think,” Frodo explained. “He also mentioned… he mentioned there might be someone in the mountain. ‘A tamer’ is what Gandalf called him. Thorin thought it must have been a made up story.” 

“A tamer? It does sound made up,” Gimli agreed. “I mean we’ve been able to befriend our dragons, but no one...absolutely no one would be able to tame  _ that _ dragon.” 

“I know, but still…” Frodo muttered. “Wouldn’t that be something? We always thought it was impossible to tame our dragons, so…” 

“Taming our dragons is one thing. Taming Smaug is something completely different,” Gimli chuckled. “I know that’s what you’re thinking. The only thing to make Smaug bow to anyone would be a bigger dragon and none of those exist anymore.” 

“I suppose you’re right. It’s not as if showing kindness to Smaug would make him want to befriend us,” Frodo gave Gimli a small smile. “Anyway, I’ll let you finish up your own sparring session and thank you for covering for me. I doubt anyone would ask, but I figured I’d cover myself just in case.” 

“‘Course, Frodo,” Gimli smiled at the hobbit. “Just don’t go getting any ideas, okay?” 

“Me? Never,” Frodo gave an innocent smile to the dwarf before waving at the pair and leaving the sparring field. 

When Frodo returned home, Dís was already at there, as was Thorin. Frodo greeted them breathlessly as he hung his coat by the door. 

“Where did you go to, if I may ask?” Dís questioned him. “One moment you were in Dwalin’s workshop and the next we round the corner and you were gone.” 

“I forgot I told Gimli I’d meet him to do a little sparring practice. Besides, Dwalin and I were practically done for the day anyway,” Frodo explained quickly.

“Sparring practice? You don’t go to sparring practice anymore. I thought you’d given it up a while ago when you started to tend to the dragons.” Thorin frowned. 

“Well, you know, gotta try to keep my skills up. Apparently Gimli’s sparring partner cancelled last minute and he asked me yesterday if I’d like to come spar with him today.” 

“Ah,” Thorin nodded. Frodo wasn’t sure if he bought it or not, but he wasn’t prying much further. “How did you do?”

“Well, I was a little rusty since I haven’t worked on my sparring for a while, but it was still fun. I wasn’t terrible.” Frodo shrugged. 

“And you were  _ not  _ almost done with Dwalin today, he said he still had tasks for you to do,” Dís interrupted. 

“Oh,” Frodo gave a  sheepish smile. “Whoops.” 

“Yes, he’ll be giving you an earful tomorrow, I’m sure. For now can you help me make dinner?” Dís requested and Frodo quickly agreed, hoping it would curtail any more conversation about that afternoon.

**x**

As the weather began to really turn cold, Frodo couldn’t stop thinking of the impending danger that lurked in the east. He had a feeling that this thought haunted Thorin as well since he continued to look more and more worn down as the days passed. 

Mixed with the sense of dread, there was also the feeling of burning curiosity — the idea of a tamer inside Erebor was completely tantalizing. There was something in the pit of his stomach that told him there must be the faintest glimmer of hope that there actually was a tamer if Gandalf had mentioned it. Frodo knew that they could never tame Smaug but if they could form an alliance with this tamer, there was a chance to fulfill Gandalf’s wishes. 

He had to know whether or not it was a fairy story or not. Surely, if he could travel that direction he should be able to gather more information about the potential of a tamer. But Gandalf must have traveled that direction to discover the dragon army and the potential of a dragon tamer. Then again, the wizard probably wasn’t telling Thorin everything he knew. If he could track down Gandalf, or at least go towards the source of the stories, perhaps he could gather more information and figure out if this tamer was real or not. 

If the tamer was real, Frodo began to think about all the possibilities. Even though there was a good chance it was a fictional tale, there could be some truth behind it. If Frodo could talk to the tamer, perhaps they’d want to help the dwarves. 

However, that was a lot of ‘what ifs’ and before Frodo could plan any further, he first had to know whether or not this tamer was real. He needed information and that information could only be found in the east. 

He knew that Thorin would never ever let him travel that far on his own and certainly wouldn’t agree to let him go even if he was accompanied by anyone in his family. It would have to be disguised as a different kind of trip. 

Now that he was of age, surely Thorin couldn’t deny him a chance to travel to the Shire on his own. He wasn’t exactly sure how long it would take him to get to the east, but if he told Thorin he would be gone for a couple weeks, staying with Sam or something of that sort, Thorin would be none the wiser.

When he was finally ready to set his plan into motion, he decided to lightly bring up the subject of another Shire trip. That night over dinner he broached the topic. 

“I was thinking of visiting the Shire again, I told Sam I would try to visit again before Yule. Maybe again at Yule, but definitely before Yule. I know everyone’s fairly busy with their things, but I could go on my own. I am an adult now, after all,” Frodo proudly reminded them. 

“Ah, Frodo, we were just there,” Thorin sighed. “We were there for Midsummer  _ and _ your birthday! Do you really have to go see Sam again? Why not just wait to go visit at Yule when we can all take off and go visit with you?” 

“I’d really like to go and I made a promise,” Frodo explained. “Like I said, no one has to go with me. It’s just to the Shire for a couple weeks.” 

“I can go with him,” Kíli volunteered. “I don’t have any young ones right now to help train, at least not until the new year and there isn’t much other work going around this time of the year either.”

“You were complaining this summer about going back to the Shire an extra time for my birthday,” Frodo nervously tried to shake Kíli off of wanting to go. 

“I know, I was just teasing back then. But I really am kind of bored right now, I’d enjoy a bit more travel before the weather gets much worse. Maybe I could find work in the Shire while Frodo visits Sam?” Kíli suggested. 

“I suppose,” Thorin hesitantly agreed.

“Are you going to take Brísi and Brúni?” Fíli questioned. 

“I dunno… I suppose. Would you have a problem with that?” Kíli asked. 

“Hm, not necessarily,” Fíli shook his head. 

“You could come with us,” Kíli suggested. “I mean, how long are you really going to go for, Frodo?”

“A week… maybe two.” Frodo shrugged. “It’s okay if you’re too busy.” 

“Well, you’re not going during Yule if you’re going for  _ several weeks _ right now,” Thorin remarked. “Durin’s beard, Frodo.”  

“All right, but I’d like to go before we get any freezes or bad weather,” Frodo explained.   

“Can you manage if I were to go with them?” Fíli asked Thorin. 

“Yes, I suppose so,” Thorin shrugged. “I’d rather you go with him anyway.” 

“Uncle Thorin, I’m a full grown adult now, I can take care of myself without a chaperone,” Frodo complained. 

“If you want to go, Fíli and Kíli are going with you and that’s final,” Thorin decided. “Make sure to take a raven with you and keep us posted while you’re there.” 

Frodo was frustrated with this twist of events, but he hadn’t been completely surprised by it. It only meant that Frodo would have to tweak his plan a little bit. 

When they arrived in the Shire a week later, they reserved their rooms at the inn and Fíli and Kíli agreed to stay at the inn, talk to the hobbits there, and drink ale while Frodo went to visit Sam. 

Sam was as surprised to see Frodo as Frodo knew he would be. It was rare that Frodo came back to the Shire so many times in such a short amount of time. 

“What are you doing back here?” Sam asked after embracing his friend. 

“Do I need an excuse? I just wanted to come back,” Frodo explained hesitantly. The Gamgees asked Frodo to join them for supper which Frodo accepted with a great deal of thanks. After supper they retreated to Sam’s small room. 

“So, what are you really doing here?” Sam asked as he stoked the fire in his small fireplace and Frodo took a seat on the end of Sam’s bed. 

“What do you mean, Sam? I came to visit,” Frodo explained. 

“You were only here last month for your birthday and you hardly ever come as often as you have. I suspect that there’s an ulterior motive,” Sam explained as he sat beside Frodo. 

“Well, you’re not completely wrong,” Frodo started hesitantly. Sam looked at him imploringly and Frodo began to tell Sam of the visit from the old wizard and what he had warned Thorin about. He also explained that there was a possibility of a dragon tamer residing in the mountain, who could be a great ally if they were real. 

“I’m sorry to say, that does sound like quite the fairy story,” Sam admitted. “But then again, I would have never believed that you would move away to live with dwarves and tame dragons yourself. I suppose anything is possible,” Sam said.  Frodo smiled at him. “Though, I must say, these dwarves have changed you into something different, that’s for sure,” Sam remarked. 

“What do you mean, Sam? I’m still your Frodo,” Frodo replied softly. 

“Well, the Frodo I knew wouldn’t go charging off into the east. You know the saying, ‘Never travel east.’ Everyone knows that’s where the dangerous dragons live. Isn’t that where… that dragon that killed Mister Bilbo lives?” 

“Yes,” Frodo admitted. “And that’s partially the reason why I’m going. I have to know what the state of things are and if I had suggested this trip to Thorin there was no way he’d agree. He wouldn’t even let me come to the Shire alone.”

“Is he here?” Sam asked. 

“No, he isn’t, but he sent Fíli and Kíli in his stead. I’m planning on leaving tonight.”

“Tonight?” Sam asked incredulously. “That sounds horribly dangerous. I’m just saying, maybe you could have waited for Mister Gandalf to come back and ask to go with him. That seems a good deal safer, don’t you think?” Sam suggested.

“Yes, it would have been. But I wouldn’t have been able to approach Gandalf without Thorin knowing about it. Besides, I’m not going to take on the mountain or the dragon army on my own or anything like it. I just want to know if there’s any truth to this dragon tamer myth. If the tamer is real, maybe I can talk to them and see if they would ever align with the dwarves… and with Gandalf to face this threat. If there’s no truth around it, then I’ll… I guess I’ll come home. As I said, I have no desire to try to take the mountain on my own.”  

“Well, I’m glad to hear that at least,” Sam sighed. “Please, be careful though. I don’t like the sound of any of it, that’s for sure. But I suppose you’ve already made up your mind and there’s not much I can do or say to change your mind.”

“No, my mind is made up,” Frodo agreed. “But I will stay as safe as possible, I promise. I’ll stop by on the way back if I can.” 

“I would like that very much,” Sam nodded. They stayed up and talked for a little while longer until Frodo decided he had better head back to the inn lest Fíli and Kíli start to fret about him. Sam gave him a bone crushing hug and wished him good luck, insisting he remain safe once again. 

Frodo made his way back to the inn in the dark brisk night, shivering while thinking how cold it would be while flying. But he knew he couldn’t have second thoughts and he must truly find out the truth about this potential dragon tamer. 

That night, as soon as he bid his cousins goodnight, Frodo returned to his room and packed his things to prepare to depart. He was never a fan of flying in the dark, but he would have to if he were to make it past Fíli and Kíli and get a decent head start. He waited a little while longer, anxiously pacing his room until the rambunctious sounds of the inn died down. 

Finally, he shouldered his pack, opened his door and shut it softly behind himself. Creeping slowly and silently, Frodo made his way out into the public area of the inn where no one was left as the fires had dwindled down to embers. There was one lonely candle at the counter, but it could have just been one that the innkeeper had forgotten to put out before retiring for the evening. 

Luckily, that seemed to be the case and Frodo hurried out of the inn before the innkeeper could catch him if he were still awake. Frodo continued out to the stables and quietly greeted Azrâkul, who had already tucked in for the night. 

“I’m sorry,” Frodo muttered. “We have to go.” Frodo saddled Azrâkul once again and hoped the dragon would last another long stretch of flying through the night. Perhaps he should have waited one more night for both he and the dragon to recuperate before starting off on this perilous journey. 

Azrâkul rumbled uncertainly, which roused Brísi and Brúni from their sleep. 

“Go back to sleep,” Frodo called to them softly. “Nothing to worry about.” 

Frodo led Azrâkul out of the stable before mounting him and taking the reins. He spurred Azrâkul upwards and onwards, turning east. Azrâkul was going a little slower than usual, but Frodo couldn’t blame the dragon. They had travelled all the way from Ered Luin and Azrâkul had only gotten about five or six hours of rest in the stables before they were on their way again. 

After an hour or two of flying, Frodo was starting to feel exhausted, getting no sleep at all before their departure. But the icy wind that whipped at his face and his determination kept him awake, though he was fighting sleep almost the entire flight. 

After what felt like an eternity, the faintest hints of dawnlight appeared on the horizon and Frodo could see the mountains growing closer and closer. He would have to stop at the foot of them and make camp to rest for at least a couple hours. Before he stopped and made Azrâkul land, he spotted soft lights in the valley below them. Frodo’s heart pounded as he consulted the mental map in his head. Those lights must have been from Rivendell, one of the great elven realms. 

Azrâkul began his descent and Frodo steered him to the wilds just outside of Rivendell. Frodo couldn’t imagine the elves being too welcoming of the dragon. But this stop was fortunate. They were more connected to the rest of the world than Ered Luin or the Shire were. Perhaps the elves would have some information on the potentially fictional dragon tamer of Erebor. 

Ensuring that Azrâkul was well hidden among the trees, Frodo let the dragon rest as he made his trek into the valley. As he reached the gate, the sun was finally peeking over the horizon properly and Frodo had to squint against the light. He could feel the strange magic of the elves and as the sun began to rise higher in the sky, he could hear the faint sound of song and laughter. 

He was greeted at the gate by an elf who stared at him wordlessly for a moment, as if confused by the hobbit’s appearance. 

“I seek a place to rest and inquire after some information,” Frodo finally explained when it seemed the elf would not speak first. 

“Well, you are certainly in the right place,” the elf finally spoke. “Master…?”

“Baggins,” Frodo supplied. 

“Right this way, Master Baggins.” The elf led Frodo up the stairs and towards the dwellings of Rivendell. “Would you like to speak to our Lord Elrond before you rest?”

“Rest first, please,” Frodo insisted. If he went without rest for a moment longer, he was sure he would fall asleep standing upright. The elf showed Frodo to a guest room and before Frodo bid the elf good night or good morning or whatever it was, he remembered to warn the elves about Azrâkul. 

“There’s a Timberjack with scarred wings resting outside the valley. If any of your kind patrol the area, please leave him be. He’s mine and deserves as much rest as I do. He’s not a threat to anyone,” Frodo explained. Once again the elf stared at the bizarre hobbit and finally Frodo bid him good morning and went to rest on the wonderful plush looking bed without bothering to change out of his travel clothes or get underneath the covers. 

Frodo woke up sometime later to a loud knock on his door. When he opened his eyes he was almost startled by his surroundings, having briefly forgotten he had arrived in Rivendell that morning. 

“Master Baggins, Lord Elrond is requesting your presence for luncheon,” a voice called from outside. 

“I’ll… be out in a moment,” Frodo replied as he slowly roused himself and got up from the bed. He found a wash basin and looking glass to wash his face and hands in before joining the elf lord for lunch. When he opened the door he found the elf standing outside waiting for him and he startled a bit, thinking the elf had already gone. 

“I’m here to lead you to the lord’s luncheon he’s had prepared for you,” the elf explained. Frodo nodded silently and allowed the elf to lead him down to wherever this luncheon was. Frodo’s stomach rumbled in anticipation. Finally they reached the beautiful pavilion with a table set for lunch and the elf lord awaiting them. 

“Master Baggins,” the elf lord greeted him. “I am Elrond, lord of the Last Homely House East of the Sea.” 

“I am Frodo Baggins, of the Shire, humbly wishing for your forgiveness for seeking shelter and rest at such an early hour,” Frodo bowed his head awkwardly. 

“It’s no trouble at all,” Elrond replied graciously. “It’s our pleasure to host you. Please, come sit and eat, you must be hungry.”

Frodo was too exhausted, hungry, and anxious to truly take in the full magnitude of being invited to eat with one of the great elf lords of Middle-Earth. Once he had eaten most of his meal, Elrond began his questioning. 

“Lindir informed me that you got in just as the sun rose over the horizon,” Elrond started. “Did you travel through the night?” 

“Yes,” Frodo nodded simply after swallowing one bite of food and then eating another bite.

“Lindir also informs me that you instructed him to take heed of a Timberjack dragon in the forest outside of the valley as it is yours… Can you… ah, explain that once more to us?”

“He’s… he’s my dragon…” Frodo explained vaguely. “His name is Azrâkul. He’s my friend, but I use him for travel, as well.”

“You mean… you keep this dragon as a pet and ride him as a method of travel?” Elrond asked. 

“As I said, he’s more my friend than a pet, but yes,” Frodo explained. Elrond exchanged a glance with Lindir. 

“How did you come to… befriend the dragon? I had not known that your kind possessed the power to befriend the dragons.” 

“Oh, they don’t. I found the dragon, sick and injured. I was able to nurse him back to health. Well, I suppose I didn’t quite… I had help,” Frodo continued. “And I’ve gained his trust that way.” 

“And what was your need to travel under cloak of darkness with your dragon?” Elrond asked. “What urgent business must you attend to in the east?” 

Frodo slowed down and put his eating utensils down, dabbing his face with the cloth napkin sitting on his lap before looking back at Lord Elrond. 

“I’m… on a quest for information,” Frodo explained. 

“What kind of information? Where?” Elrond asked. “Is there anything we can help you with?”

“I have heard rumor of a dragon tamer that resides in Erebor,” Frodo continued. “I wish to see if it is true or not.” 

“In Erebor?” Elrond frowned. “Why do you seek this information? What does the mountain and its inhabitants matter to you? Where have you heard such rumors?” 

Frodo sat and thought for a moment about how to explain to the elves his quest and what it meant to him. However, he seemed to remember Thorin saying that the elves did not like the dwarves, and so Frodo was conflicted about whether or not to reveal his connection to the dwarves, let alone Thorin Oakenshield. 

“Well,” Frodo started hesitantly. “I… erm, I’d like to find others like me who can bond with the dragons as I have.” 

“It is dangerous in the east,” Elrond warned him. “I would suggest you do not continue on such a dangerous quest, as it would put your life and your dragon’s life at risk.” 

Frodo pursed his lips and sighed. 

“I am aware of the dangers,” Frodo explained. “I still wish to go and seek the information for myself.” 

“You do so at the risk of losing your life,” Elrond continued to press upon Frodo the dangers of his quest. 

“Can you tell me if you have any information concerning the supposed tamer?” Frodo asked, ignoring Elrond’s warning.

“I know that it is highly unlikely that such a person exists,” Elrond explained. “Gandalf the Grey had told me the very same rumor, however it cannot be so. The dragon that resides in that mountain is, if you hadn’t already guessed, a very different kind of dragon. He is of the Alpha species, a species from the first age of this world. Alpha dragons possess great powers and it is extremely improbable that anyone in this age can wield power over a dragon such as that.” 

“You say improbable, you mean that there is a possibility?” Frodo questioned. 

“The only one who could wield power over the Alpha species was vanquished long ago in a terrible war,” Elrond explained. “We should be grateful that our world is rid of power such as that. Anyone who can wield that type of power is evil or a servant of evil and we should hope that no one is able to tame the beast that lays in that mountain. I must warn you once again to not go looking for your answer.” 

Frodo frowned, thinking about Lord Elrond’s words. Although his warning slightly terrified Frodo, he still wanted to know for sure about the possibility of a dragon tamer. Gandalf would not have placed faith or hope in an idea that was certainly impossible or evil. There must be something more to the rumor. 

“I must prepare to leave,” Frodo excused himself from the table. “I have lingered here long enough. I thank you for offering me shelter and a meal. Your hospitality has been outstanding, but I must be on my way.” 

Frodo returned the way he came and gathered his bag. By the time he was on his way out, Lindir was at the door to the guest room. 

“Master Baggins, my lord only has your best interests at heart and would hate to have you die so needlessly,” Lindir begged. “Please heed my lord’s words and return the way you came.” 

“Thank you once again for your hospitality,” Frodo replied, shouldering his pack and giving no answer to Lindir’s pleas. “If you could, would you please lead me back out to the gate?”

Lindir didn’t say anything else as he led the hobbit back down the stairs and towards the gate the hobbit had appeared at earlier that morning. 

“I wish you the best of luck, Master Hobbit,” Lindir bid Frodo goodbye. 

Frodo made his way back out of the valley and found Azrâkul resting where he had left him that morning. 

“Hey,” Frodo whispered, trying not to startle the Timberjack. “We need to get moving again. I’m sure by now Fíli and Kíli have realized that I’m no longer in the Shire and they’ll be after us. We must cross the Misty Mountains and hopefully make it to Rhovanion by tonight,” Frodo explained. 

Azrâkul grumbled in protest as Frodo mounted the dragon. 

“I know, I’m tired too, but I’m curious. Even more curious now than I was before. Did you know about Alpha dragons?” Frodo asked the dragon. Azrâkul let out a quiet growl in response. “Listen, at the first sign of trouble we’ll turn around and head home, I promise,” Frodo told the dragon. “But for now we continue onwards.”

Azrâkul took off and soon they were flying towards the mountains and ominous storm clouds. Frodo cursed to himself as the terrible weather surrounded them. He really did not wish to land in the mountains, but he knew if Azrâkul was caught in the terrible crosswinds of the storm, it could mean certain death for him and his dragon. 

In an attempt to escape the storm, Frodo urged Azrâkul up. If they could get above the clouds, perhaps they would be safe. Azrâkul fought against the cruel winds that tossed them back and forth and eventually they broke into the murky light as the wind lessened. 

Frodo breathed a sigh of relief as he wiped the rain and sleet from his eyes. The fluffy shapes of the clouds whizzed by below them, giving their flight almost a surreal feeling. The storm clouds rumbled beneath them as they glided along. However, with the added altitude, the wind was bitingly cold and Frodo’s teeth chattered violently. He pressed himself closer to the dragon, hoping to catch the little bit of heat the dragon emitted. 

They continued on this way for quite a long time and as Frodo’s fingers were turning a dangerous shade of blue, he guided the Timberjack down below the clouds once again. His head ached and his stomach churned unpleasantly and Frodo knew that the altitude they were flying at was not doing him any favors. The clouds and fog obscured their view, but when Frodo realized they were still among the mountains, he had to pull Azrâkul into a few evasive maneuvers to navigate the tricky ravines and chasms. 

Although part of him was glad for the storm, as it would make him less easier to follow, he still felt a pang of guilt, knowing that he was leading his family through such perils. Frodo tried not to think about it as Azrâkul put on a burst of speed as they reached the eastern foothills of the mountains. Frodo breathed a sigh of relief as Azrâkul continued to descend into the warmer air. The hobbit wasn’t the only one feeling the bitter bite of the cold. 

Before them stretched the sea, the waters that separated the treacherous mountain range from Rhovanion. Frodo decided they had better stop and rest for a little while before tackling that stretch of their journey. After landing, Frodo slid off his dragon and ran his hand along the side of the Timberjack’s neck before stopping and scratching under the dragon’s jaw. 

“You flew beautifully over those mountains,” Frodo praised the dragon before he sat himself tucked against the dragon to pull out some of the food he had packed for his journey. Azrâkul rested his head, but laid so he could still keep an eye on Frodo. 

After his meal, Frodo reclined against the dragon and closed his eyes briefly. He was still exhausted from his attempt to fly practically from Ered Luin to Rivendell, with only a four or five hour break in the Shire. When Frodo opened his eyes again, the sun was beginning to set and cooler hues were being cast over the landscape. 

“We should get going again,” Frodo muttered sleepily. He hated the thought of flying over the sea in the dark, but he had rested long enough and it was important to get as far as he could without Fíli and Kíli catching up to him. 

Adjusting Azrâkul’s saddle and hopping onto the back of the dragon, they took off once more over the vast black waters that crashed against the cliffsides. Flying high above the water, Frodo was almost mesmerized by the way the moonlight bounced off the water and the way it looked as they flew over it at top speed. The salty air prickled at Frodo’s eyes and left a biting taste on his tongue.  

For once, Frodo was missing the benefits of living within the mountains. Of course he had been out to see the ocean several times with Thorin, Fíli, and Kíli, but then the salty air had almost been a novelty. It was different, so Frodo had enjoyed it. But now, it was almost overbearing on his senses and Frodo closed his eyes and mouth and swallowed, hoping they would reach the shore of Rhovanion sooner rather than later. 

After several more hours of flying, when the moon was high in the night sky, Frodo finally spotted land. At first he wasn’t sure if it was a mirage and his vision was playing tricks on him. As they flew closer and closer, Frodo could tell that the large dark shape wasn’t a mirage or a hallucination and that Rhovanion was in sight. Frodo whooped in celebration and Azrâkul mimicked the sound with a short bark. The hobbit laughed at Azrâkul’s attempt to imitate Frodo’s celebratory cry and was relieved when the sweeping land mass began to fly by beneath them. 

They finally landed and made camp as the first dawn light spread across the sky. Frodo startled when there was a rustling in the trees just across the clearing from them. Azrâkul could sense something was there and let out a predatory growl. In response was another growl, but it didn’t sound like a dragon. Frodo stood up and unsheathed his blade, facing the direction the sound had come from. Finally the beast broke through into the clearing and the early morning light revealed a bear of enormous proportion. 

Frodo’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest as he clung to his blade. The bear was so large that Frodo began to doubt if Azrâkul could actually protect him from such a beast and he could sense that Azrâkul was experiencing the same kind of doubt. However, the dragon still bristled and braced himself to defend Frodo. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t necessary as the bear stopped in the clearing and observed them almost thoughtfully. Frodo caught his breath as before their eyes the bear began to shrink and the shape of the bear transformed into a man. A very hairy, nude man. Frodo swallowed as he watched the man stand upright; Frodo’s blade was still trembling in his hand. 

“You there,” a dark and accented voice called to Frodo and the dragon. Frodo continued to tremble and couldn’t utter a response to the bear-man. “Are you… are you friends with that dragon?” 

Finally Frodo nodded hesitantly and the bear-man stared at them in wonder and awe. 

“I had heard tale of dragon tamers, I never imagined there were such a thing,” the man admitted as he came closer to where they were. 

“You’ve heard of other dragon tamers?” Frodo’s heart leapt in his chest. 

“Only the unlikely rumors,” the man explained. “Where have you come from?”

“We’ve just come from over the sea and the mountains. I live far in the west among the dwarves in Ered Luin… ah, the Blue Mountains,” Frodo explained. The man immediately frowned at the mention of ‘dwarves.’ 

_ Not many people were friendly towards dwarves, _ Frodo noted to himself. 

“You are no dwarf. Or you are a very strange one… a very young one, perhaps?” the man mused aloud. 

“I am a grown hobbit, thank you. A halfling of the Shire,” Frodo replied with a hint of pride. 

“Then why do you live with the dwarves?” the man asked in contempt. 

“I live with them because they are my family. My adopted family,” Frodo explained. 

“Hm… and your dragon? How have you formed such a bond with it?” the man asked. 

“Ah, I… erm, helped him out when he was sick and injured. He’s been my friend for nearly seventeen years now.” 

The man seemed impressed with Frodo. 

“What are you?” Frodo asked without thinking. “I’ve never met a man who can change between the form of a man and the form of a bear.” 

“And I’ve never met a halfling who chooses to live among dwarves, or a halfling who had befriended a dragon. My name is Beorn and I am a skin-changer… the last of my kind,” the man replied. “Now come, you look as if you could use some proper rest. You may follow me back to my halls and rest if you wish,” the man offered. Frodo was a little hesitant, but Beorn seemed kind enough and he was impressed that Beorn had his own halls. 

Beorn changed shape back into a bear and Frodo and Azrâkul followed the bear, gliding over the top of the treetops and the land back to the skin-changers home. They finally reached a home that looked as if it had been part of the landscape for an eternity. 

Frodo landed just outside the gate as the man transformed back into his human form. 

“Erm, is my dragon welcome inside?” Frodo asked. 

“He may come inside the gate but not inside my halls,” Beorn explained. “As long as you promise that your dragon will be well behaved and courteous of the other animals that reside here.” 

“Did you hear that, Azrâkul?” Frodo turned to his dragon. “Well-behaved,” Frodo repeated. “Courteous, Azrâkul. Can you manage that?” The Timberjack bowed his head in agreement with a low guttural chuckle. They turned and entered the gate that protected the home. Frodo was overwhelmed with the expansive gardens and the animals that wandered there. A bee flew past his face that was larger than his fist. 

Azrâkul was a little spooked as well and Frodo did his best to comfort the dragon before finally following the massive man inside. Beorn donned some woven clothes and Frodo felt a little more comfortable. Beorn gestured for Frodo to take a seat at the large table that would still have been too high for a normal sized man. Frodo struggled to crawl up onto one of the benches at the large table but waiting as a reward for his struggles were the most delicious looking honey cakes Frodo had ever seen. 

He must have had a ridiculous look on his face as he spotted the cakes because, to Frodo’s surprise, Beorn laughed. 

“You look like a little bunny surveying its food. Please, eat,” Beorn offered and Frodo readily consumed several honey cakes in the matter of minutes. He hadn’t had a proper meal schedule the past few days. Once he slowed down, Beorn offered him fresh milk to wash them down and finally broached the topic of Frodo’s travels. 

“Why have you travelled this far east, little bunny?” Beorn asked, the bunny nickname sticking, much to Frodo’s chagrin. 

“I’ve come searching for news of a dragon tamer that lives in the Lonely Mountain,” Frodo explained cautiously, watching Beorn for a reaction. 

“A dragon tamer, hm?” Beorn sighed. “I’ve heard rumor, a very doubtful rumor, and nothing else.” 

Frodo sighed in disappointment, hoping the skin-changer would have more information, considering he lived closer to the mountain than Lord Elrond. 

“However, the dragons have been behaving differently and I see the dragons less and less each day. This part of the world used to be infested with dragons, scaring my animals and occasionally managing to carry off one of my ponies. Over the past several years, their migrating patterns have changed and there’s less and less dragon activity here. Perhaps that is in relation to your dragon tamer myth?” Beorn questioned.

“Maybe,” Frodo frowned, but the news troubled him. Gandalf had also warned Thorin about the dragon army gathering in the North. If Gandalf was correct, Frodo may know where the dragons had been disappearing to. This, however, offered no news of another dragon tamer in Erebor, only the bad news that the dragon army was real. Or maybe the dragon tamer was working with Bolg and it  _ was _ all connected. Frodo still held onto the hope that he would find an independent dragon tamer in the mountain, but the possibility was growing smaller and smaller each time he talked to anyone who might know the answers to his questions. 

Beorn could tell that this news troubled Frodo and pressed the hobbit to discover if he knew anymore about the dragons and their disappearances. Frodo explained that he had heard ill news of orcs gathering dragon forces in the north. 

“I do not care for the dragons, they are pests and terrify many, but orcs are cruel and I would not wish  imprisonment by orcs on anyone or anything,” Beorn explained. “If there is anything I can do to help, let me know.” 

Frodo nodded offering the skin-changer a weak smile and finished his glass of milk, washing down his last honey cake. 

“Would it be all right if I rest here until I am ready to move on? It won’t be long, I am traveling with haste,” Frodo explained.

“You are welcomed as long as you need,” Beorn offered and Frodo thanked him once again. Instead of making camp inside, Frodo decided to retreat out to the garden where Azrâkul was resting and Beorn’s animals looked on curiously at the dragon, but dared not approach. 

Azrâkul heard Frodo enter the garden and immediately lifted his head to spot him. 

“Hey,” Frodo smiled. “You don’t mind if I come out here and sleep with you, do you?” Frodo asked as he unrolled his bedroll. Azrâkul gave a low chirp and shifted his wings to accommodate Frodo and his bedroll. Frodo curled up and it didn’t take long until he drifted off to sleep. 

When he woke again, he realized he must have been asleep much longer than he intended since the sky was darkening again. Frodo groaned and got up, packing his things in a hurry so he could depart as soon as possible. Frodo found Beorn on the other side of the garden tending to some of the animals and talking to them softly. 

“Thank you so much for your hospitality and your honey cakes,” Frodo blushed as he mentioned the delicious cakes. 

“It was my pleasure,” Beorn assured him. “I wish you luck on your quest and as I said, if there’s anything I can do to help you and the dragon situation you told me about, please let me know,” Beorn replied. 

Frodo thanked him once again, led Azrâkul outside of the gate, and mounted the dragon, taking off as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Before him was a great forest and in the distance, Frodo could make out the faint shape of the Lonely Mountain, the sight of which caused his stomach to drop and twist and do all sorts of unpleasant things. 

For the first time since he had set out, he was beginning to have his doubts and wondered if his curiosity _ would _ one day kill him. He was flying directly towards the mountain where the oldest, biggest dragon alive lived. The dragon who had killed many of Thorin’s people, who had killed Bilbo, and Frodo was going straight towards it. 

He had made it this far, though, and the thought of turning around and heading home didn’t seem appealing, knowing that Thorin was going to be absolutely livid with him. Frodo continued onwards into the darkness. Beneath him was an ominous looking forest, Mirkwood if he remembered his maps correctly. The elves lived there, but he remembered Thorin saying that they were not as fair as the elves of Rivendell. All the same, Frodo wondered if they had heard any word about the dragon tamer. However, Frodo did not want to attempt to traverse the forest and find the elves, so he continued onwards, flying over the top of the trees. 

When he reached the edge of the forest he landed once again, sensing that Azrâkul was tiring, and Frodo too felt the exhaustion wearing on him. He’d never attempted to fly as far or as long as he had the past few days and perhaps he had overestimated his and Azrâkul’s stamina. He sat where the river from the forest met the lake and the moonlight shone brilliantly on the surface of the water. The sounds of the running water were calming and peaceful and Frodo reclined against his resting dragon. He closed his eyes for a moment only meaning to rest them for a little while, but ended up falling asleep. 

His dreams were filled with images of dragonfire, the great form of Smaug himself, and a mysterious dragon tamer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....GUESS WHAT WE'RE FINALLY ON THE VERGE OF...... 
> 
> I also wanted to drop some [pics of the adorable felted dragons](http://hobbitunderthemountain.tumblr.com/post/143512806043/fuckyeahvikingsandcelts-rainbowbarnacle) that are mentioned earlier in the chapter during Frodo's birthday as they are modeled after actual felted dragons that I saw a post a while ago on tumblr for. It looks as if the Etsy seller doesn't craft as many dragons any more, but their work is hella cute so [check it out!](https://www.etsy.com/shop/shyshyru) If you want to see more dragons check out their 'reviews' section! 
> 
> Anyway, I can't tell you all how thrilled I am to finally _finally_ start to reach this portion of the fic, albeit two and a half years later, those of you who have been through this journey from the start is absolutely amazing, and those of you joined midway or just now hoppin on the bandwagon I thank you for tackling such a beast.
> 
> I cannot believe that I'm nearly at 20k hits on this fic and over 500 kudos and holy crap y'all! I appreciate every hit, kudo, bookmark and comment I get (especially the comments <333) so you're all FANTASTIC. 
> 
> And speaking of fantastic, thank you so much again to my beta [Kate](http://buttersbeer.tumblr.com) who catches all my dumb mistakes, ily Kate!


	22. The Impossible Reunion

Fíli woke up, the early dawn light streaming in through the window of their room at the Green Dragon Inn. A chilling fog had rolled in over the Shire and Fíli opened the window to feel the cold moisture against his face. It was truly a different experience waking up here instead of Ered Luin.

“What are you doing? It’s freezing,” Kíli muttered from the other bed in the room. “Shut the window.”

Fíli chuckled and, as requested, shut the window before going to stoke the fire in the hearth of their room to make up for letting the cold air into the room. Fíli stretched before going over to his brother’s bed.

“Why don’t you get up and check to see if Frodo is up yet or not?” Fíli gently kicked Kíli’s sleeping form.

“Why me? Can’t it be you?” Kíli groaned.

“Come on, I’m going to go see about breakfast. I’m sure Frodo won’t want to miss out on that.”

Kíli groaned and finally got up as Fíli changed out of his nightclothes and pulled on some fresh clothes from his pack before heading out to the public part of the inn. There weren’t many hobbits about, as it was still fairly early for the pub and it hadn’t seemed as if there were many others staying there at the moment.

Fíli got a plate of food for them to share, grabbed a table, and began to eat, watching for Kíli and Frodo to wave them down. Finally, Kíli came into the public part of the inn looking pale and shaken. Fíli wondered if he’d gotten enough rest or if he was feeling ill. His younger brother spotted him and hurried over.

“Frodo’s not in his room,” Kíli muttered.

“What?” Fíli frowned, wondering where Frodo could be. “We saw him come in after visiting Sam. Do you think he’s already up and back at the Gamgees this early?”

“He better be,” Kíli muttered. “Or at the very least, Sam might know where he’s at,” Kíli muttered. “Thorin’s going to kill us.”

“No one’s killing anyone just yet,” Fíli sighed as he got up and took one last bite of his meal before shoving a few sausage links into Kíli’s hands and insisting that he eat something as they left the inn.

It was a bit of a hike in the early morning sun, but they eventually reached the hill and hurried past the Gamgees’ gate to knock on the bright yellow door.

Hamfast looked irritated as he opened the door, squinting to find the dwarves, red-faced and catching their breath, standing on his doorstep.

“What in heavens? What’s got the two of you in such a haste this morning?” Hamfast groused.

“Frodo, is he here?” Kíli asked desperately.

“Ah, no, unless he somehow snuck his way in here this morning without anyone noticing. Why?” Hamfast asked with a frown.

“Oh, Mahal, he’s missing,” Kíli explained hastily. “I knew it.”

“Now slow down, what do you mean he’s missing?” Hamfast asked.

“He’s gone!” Kíli answered hysterically.

“He wasn’t in his room this morning and we were hoping he was here or perhaps Sam might know where he’s off to, since Frodo was here last night.” Fíli attempted be a little more calm and collected than his brother.

“Oh, sure, come in, I’m not sure if Sam is awake just yet, I’ll go fetch him.” Hamfast invited the dwarves inside his smial. They anxiously waited as the hobbit retreated back towards the bedrooms and after a few moments passed, a sleepy looking Sam came into the front entry way. When he caught sight of Fíli and Kíli, he paled.

“Now, these two are saying that Frodo’s gone missing this morning. Did he say anything to you last night about going somewhere?”

Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times before breaking into sputtering tears.

“I’m so sorry, I should have tried harder to stop him,” Sam wailed. “I tried, though. I did. But he’d already had his mind made up, I’m sorry, I should have warned you—”

Fíli and Kíli looked at each other, extremely startled by Sam’s outburst.

“What didn’t you stop him from doing?” Kíli pressed, with a frown.

“He was tellin’ me about the old wizard, Gandalf, coming to see you in the mountains and talking to his Uncle Thorin about this mountain in the east filled with dragons! And he said something about a dragon army and the possibility that there was some bloke living in the mountain that could tame the dragons like you and Frodo can, so he wanted to see if it was true…” Sam trailed off, hysterics overtaking him again. Fíli and Kíli looked back at each other with one part confusion and the other sheer panic.

“Durin’s beard, _what on earth would possess him to go without us?”_ Kíli cried.

“He figured if he told us, we would tell Thorin and be shut down immediately. Does Frodo really believe that? I suppose if _Tharkûn_ had said so… why didn’t Thorin tell us about that visit?” Fíli questioned rapidly.

“I’m so sorry, Mister Fíli,” Sam apologized profusely.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Fíli sighed. “You’re right, once Frodo’s made his mind up about something, there’s no stopping him. Even now that he’s of age, he’s still acting like a child. Thorin’s never going to let Frodo out of his sight after this.”

“He’s never going to let _us_ out of his sight! Unless he kills us first!” Kíli exclaimed in a panic. “What are we gonna do?”

“Well, obviously we have to go after him,” Fíli decided.

“We don’t even know exactly where Erebor is other than it’s east,” Kíli muttered.

“Neither does Frodo. I imagine it’s easy enough to find once we pass the Misty Mountains. A lonely peak north of a large lake is hard to miss,” Fíli explained.

“Right,” Kíli nodded.

“Besides, he’s not going to the mountain, he’d be stupid to do that,” Fíli frowned.

“He’s trying to figure out if there’s a tamer in the mountain, if he’s going anywhere he’s going to the mountain,” Kíli argued. “Durin’s beard, he’s going to be killed.”

“We have to tell Thorin,” Fíli decided and Kíli looked as if Fíli had just given him a death sentence. “He’ll only be even more furious if we don’t tell him now. If nothing else, as soon as he gets the message he’ll come looking too. He can bring Dwalin and Vídar, since Vídar will be better at tracking Frodo and Azrâkul than any of us or our dragons, and hopefully we’ll find them before they get too far,” Fíli explained.

They apologized for intruding so early, thanked Sam for the information, and hurried back to the Green Dragon. Hastily, they scrawled a message to Thorin explaining what had happened and that they were headed east after Frodo. They gave each other nervous looks as they entrusted the raven with the message and sent it off. Quickly, they mounted their own dragon and took off, heading east, urging their dragon as quickly as possible.

**x**

“My Lord, a raven has just arrived with a message addressed to you,” a dwarf interrupted the small gathering in the meeting hall. It wasn’t necessarily a formal council, but there were a few dwarves who had wanted to speak with Thorin and Dís about particular things.

Thorin gave a long-suffering sigh as he accepted it. Usually he would wait to accept any message until after he was finished with council, but his concern about his nephews’ well-being made him anxious to open it immediately. A few of the other dwarves in attendance looked a little irked by the interruption, but Thorin ignored their agitated expressions.

“They’ve been gone _one day_ , Dís,” Thorin groused to his sister. “One day and I’m already getting a raven.”

“I’m sure it’s just to let us know they got there safely,” Dís assured him hesitantly. “Open it and see,” Dís urged him. Thorin opened the note and his eyes scanned the page and his hands began shaking and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“No,” Thorin breathed. “ _Durin’s beard_ …”

Dís quickly looked over his shoulder as she spotted Thorin’s reaction, quickly wondering what news the letter contained. She read over the letters and hissed a few Khuzdul curses under her breath. The mood of the others in the council shifted from annoyance to concern and curiosity in response to Thorin and Dís reaction to the message.

“What in Durin’s name is Frodo doing going east?” Dís asked shrilly, looking to her brother as if he were the sole cause of this.

“ _What?”_ Dwalin barked, before coming forward and looking at the letter himself.

“I don’t know!” Thorin managed to croak out. “According to this, Sam said Frodo had heard the wizard make his plea to me and that he’s off in search of this fictional dragon tamer!” Thorin cried. “How did he know?”

“Ah, my lord…” Gimli, who was in attendance, stepped forward looking fearful and  Glóin looked towards his son, completely baffled. “He came to me the day the wizard came to discuss such things with you. He wished for me to cover for him, when he told me that he had snuck into this very hall to listen to what the wizard had to say to you.”

“That’s right, he said he was out sparring with Gimli that day,” Dís remarked looking at her brother. “He was sure off in a hurry after I came to tell you that Gandalf was here. I should have known…” Dís shook her head.  

“Why didn’t you come forward and say something sooner, my boy?” Glóin demanded. Gimli shrunk and avoided everyone’s gaze.

“I didn’t think he’d do anything so foolish!” Gimli exclaimed. “He told me he wouldn’t go getting any ideas! I thought he’d have known better!”

“Well, you know my nephews, the foolish, suicidal ones,” Thorin groaned. “Honestly, what did he hope to achieve? This… this is ridiculous. Does he not understand how dangerous it is?”

“And Fíli and Kíli are going after him,” Dís paled. “I hope they’re able to find him before he reaches the Misty Mountains.”

Balin quickly apologized to the other dwarves in attendance and assured them that they could meet another time, but for now the meeting was suspended. A few hung around to try to listen in on what was happening and why Thorin’s hobbit nephew had disappeared into the night towards their ancestral land.

“Whatever the case, we have to go after them,” Dwalin gestured to the letter. “I’m sure Vídar will be able to track the lad, as Fíli and Kíli suggested. I just hope we’re not already too late. We’re already a day behind.”

“Let’s get home, pack what we need, and we’ll meet down at the dragon stables in half an hour,” Thorin decided. “We must make haste.” As they left the hall, Dís fell into step beside Thorin.

“I can’t believe he’s been so foolish, did he not hear the bit about a _dragon army_ being out that way?” Dís hissed to herself. “We thought these kind of irrational things would be a thing of the past now that he’s an adult!”

“Barely,” Thorin reminded her. “Barely of age, and this only proves that he doesn’t have the maturity or reasonability of an adult. If he’d only talked to me about this, before he even…”

“I mean, you would have said no.” Dís surveyed her brother carefully. “Right? Or would you have considered it?” Dís asked softly.

“Yes, of course I would have said no, but he would be safe at home right now!” Thorin argued. “He’d be cross with me, but he’d be safe.”

“He probably would have found another way to make his way out there. I mean, part of it may just be that he’s restless,” Dís remarked. “He’s just come of age, he has a dragon that can fly him anywhere he wishes, and we’ve barely let him out to go see the Shire on his own, let alone the world…”

 _“Hobbits aren’t supposed to be like that, Dís._ They’re… they’re more concerned with the comforts of home and the like.” Thorin snapped as they reached their home. “They’re not supposed to have a _death wish!”_

“You know even Bilbo wasn’t like that,” Dís argued as she shut the front door behind her. “He may have appeared… hobbitish on the outside, but I know he talked about traveling the way his mother did. What was the tale? His father’s side were the respectable hobbits and his mother’s side were the adventuring type? He had a bit of that in him, remember.”

“Frodo isn’t a Took, though. Not directly, I don’t believe. Maybe a fraction. They all seem as if they’re related somehow,” Thorin muttered as he turned up the stairs towards his room. “Or perhaps the five or so years he had with Bilbo sparked this reckless, adventurous streak,” Thorin remarked as he entered his room and quickly went to pack what he needed.

“Should I come along? I’d like to. You know, you’d have a second pair of eyes…” Dís explained.

“If I need a second pair of eyes, it’s not going to be you,” Thorin remarked with a wry look on his face.

“An extra _eye_ then,” Dís gave an exasperated sigh as she subconsciously touched the scar running across her cheek and up to her blind eye.

“No, someone should be here,” Thorin shook his head as he finished packing his bag. “We’ll send word as soon as we find Frodo and we’ll come straight home. I do hope Fíli and Kíli have found him before he gets too far east. If anything happens to any of those boys…” Thorin trailed off.

“Nothing’s going to happen,” Dís assured him. “You’re going to find them and bring them home.”

“What if… what if Frodo is killed by Smaug or another dangerous dragon out east? One from that army? I cannot think I could bear losing him. I don’t know what I’d do,” Thorin had to fight back tears that were bubbling up and threatening to escape. “I’ve always feared for his safety, but now that he’s actually gone seeking the dragon that took everything from us… I thought he’d grown out of this!” Thorin cried, anger bleeding into his words.

“Don’t think that way. Don’t you dare. You’ll get Frodo back, I’m sure. Do what you couldn’t do for Bilbo.” Dís gently placed a hand on Thorin’s arm. Thorin pulled her in closely and pressed his forehead against hers. “And make sure my sons are safe.”

**x**

The sun had already risen fairly high in the sky when Frodo finally opened his eyes again and he startled. He and Azrâkul had been so exhausted that neither he nor his dragon woke at dawn. Now the sun rose overhead as they slept under the shade of a few large trees at the edge of the forest and the river. Frodo blinked as he got up and stretched, walking closer to the water and looking out to the lake. He spotted a town that looked as if it was built on piers and docks in the middle of the lake.

Frodo hadn’t spotted the settlement the night before and he wondered if he’d be able to talk to anyone in town. They lived closest to the mountain and would have a better idea, more than anyone, if there was a dragon tamer in the mountain. As Frodo sat there and began to think about the best way to make his way over to the town without using Azrâkul—so as not to startle them—he spotted a small boat on the water that was seemingly making his way towards where Frodo sat.

Had he been spotted by someone in the town? Were they coming to attack or to question him? Frodo quickly made his way back to where Azrâkul laid in the shade

“We have to get further back into the foliage,” Frodo murmured urgently. “There’s someone coming this way.”

Quickly hiding behind the tree and other bushes, Frodo was able to find the best way to observe the boat as it made its way closer. Soon it was clear that there was only one man on board and he didn’t look equipped to fight. In fact, it seemed as if the man hadn’t seen him at all. He was there to collect barrels that were beginning to drift down the river.

Those barrels must have been from the elven realm, Frodo thought to himself.

Mulling over his options, Frodo decided that the best course of action would be to address the the man himself and ask if he had heard any rumor about the dragon tamer that lived in the mountain. If not, perhaps he could get a ride into town with the man and consult some of the others who lived out on the lake to try to determine where the rumor started. Then would be the task of going to see if it were true, but Frodo would worry about that when he got to that point.

“Stay hidden, Azrâkul,” Frodo hissed.

When he was absolutely sure that the man was not going to attack him Frodo hesitantly stepped forward from the trees.

“You’re late,” the man barely glanced up at him. “And I don’t know why you’re hiding.”

Frodo frowned, staring at the man and was unsure of what to say because he was so confused by the man’s reaction. He looked around to make sure that the man was addressing him, but there was no sign of anyone else.

“Where’s your dragon?” the man asked.

Frodo’s stomach clenched in confusion. So, the man had seen them? Why was he not more afraid of the potential of a dragon? Azrâkul chirped upon hearing Bard’s question and came out of the trees to get a good look at the man.

“Oh, what happened? You have a different dragon than your usual…” the man got a closer glimpse of Frodo and froze. “You’re not… who are you?” the man looked perplexed.

“Who… were you expecting?” Frodo asked suspiciously.

“Not you. Someone remarkably like you, but not you,” Bard explained with an amused look on his face. The man continued to study Frodo, trying to determine who he was and what he was doing there. “Are you a halfling of the Shire?”

“Yes…” Frodo nodded. “I am.”

“You have a dragon… I… know this must be an absurd question, but do you have any relation to Bilbo… Bilbo Baggins of the Shire?” the man asked. Frodo’s stomach clenched harder than ever at the mention of his uncle.

“How do you know Bilbo?” Frodo uttered weakly. Bard’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “He’s been dead twenty years and I don’t believe he had ever travelled to this part of the world before he died.”

The man looked like he was going to say something, but then frowned, looking past Frodo, up towards the sky, before he could answer. Frodo turned to see what he was looking at, squinting as he saw another dragon flying towards them in a hurry. He was absolutely sure at this point his heart was about to give out or leap right out of his chest. Landing beside them on the bank, there was another rider and their dragon. The rider was dressed strangely, wore a helmet, and carried a spear, but the one thing that jumped out the most was their feet. Their large, uncovered, hairy feet.

The rider slid off the dragon and removed their helmet, staring at Frodo with wide eyes. Eventually, the rider dropped the helmet and stared in shock. It was Bilbo.

_It was Bilbo._

All the color drained from Frodo’s face, and he began trembling.

_This wasn’t possible._

He must have been fast asleep on the banks of the river still.

“Frodo? My dear Frodo?” Bilbo gasped as he surged forward and stopped an arm’s length away from where Frodo stood to study him and make sure it was really his young cousin he had taken in all those years ago.

Bilbo reached up and lightly touched Frodo’s face, his fingers ghosting over the pale scar Frodo had gotten the day Bag-End had been destroyed.

“Oh, my goodness, it is you, isn’t it?” Bilbo asked, tears glimmering in his eyes.

“B-Bilbo?” Frodo’s voice cracked. The hobbit looked completely different from how Frodo remembered him. His hair was longer and unevenly scraggly. He’d lost all the pudgy padding around his middle and his face was thinner too. “Uncle Bilbo?”

“Oh, Frodo, my dear, _dear_ boy!” Bilbo gasped pulling Frodo into his arms and embracing him. “It’s really you! You’re here… how are you here? Who is this?” Bilbo looked to the dragon behind Frodo. “What’s happening?” Bilbo frowned. Behind Frodo, Azrâkul gave an unsure growl as he looked at Bilbo’s own dragon.

“Th-This is Azrâkul,” Frodo explained quietly as he continued to stare in shock at Bilbo. “He’s my…”

“Your dragon?” Bilbo truly looked perplexed now. “ _Your_ dragon? You have a dragon? How is that possible? _You have a dragon!”_ Bilbo cried in excitement.

 _“You_ have a dragon?” Frodo repeated. “You’re… you’re alive. Everyone thinks you’re dead… _everyone…_ and Uncle Thorin… he…” Frodo trailed off, having a hard time searching for his words.

“Thorin,” Bilbo sighed as if he were testing the way the name tasted on his lips for the first time in a long while.

“You do remember him, don’t you?” Frodo frowned.

“Rem—? Of course, I remember him,” Bilbo argued tersely. “He was my husband.”

“Was?” Frodo choked.

“Is.” Bilbo shook his head and looked away. “He’s… _He’s_ still alive, isn’t he?” Bilbo asked in lieu of his slip.

“Yes, he’s still alive,” Frodo nodded.

“Oh, thank heavens,” Bilbo gasped in relief. “I really have missed him so much. I’ve missed you and Thorin... a-and our whole family so very much.”

“I can scarcely imagine how Thorin’ll react to this news! Oh, you have to come back with me!” Frodo’s thoughts began racing as the initial shock began to give way into excitement.

“Bilbo, what’s going on?” Bard called. Both of the hobbits had nearly forgotten the man was still there.

“Oh, Bard!” Bilbo jumped when he realized Bard was watching them.  “Bard, this is my nephew, Frodo. Frodo, this is Bard. He lives in the town on the lake. Come on, lad, help us with the barrels.” Bilbo jumped back on his dragon and the dragon glided over to the south bank where the bargeman had docked. Frodo hesitantly got on Azrâkul and guided him in the same direction.

Frodo’s heart continued to pound and his mind still whirled, feeling as if he’d just walked into a very bizarre dream. He began to help Bilbo and Bard load up the barrels, the two dragons sitting uneasily beside each other as they watched the process.

Bard watched the two hobbits carefully and when they finished Bilbo and Bard exchanged their goods.  

“Why has your nephew come this far east?” Bard asked as they finished and Bilbo could tell that the bargeman was brimming with questions, as was Bilbo.

“Good question. Why are you here, Frodo?” Bilbo echoed Bard’s thoughts.

“It’s ah… well, Gandalf, the old wizard, came to Ered Luin a few weeks ago. He came to warn Thorin about the gathering dragon forces in the east and urged Thorin to retake the mountain, because it’s his birthright.” Frodo started. “He also mentioned that there was a rumor about a dragon tamer living in the mountain and I wanted to know… if I had managed to do it… if someone else had and… are you the dragon tamer he was talking about?” Frodo asked.

“I suppose that’s the title they’ve all given me,” Bilbo conceded. “There’s not another tamer around that I’m aware of. Anyway, don’t _they_ all think I’m dead now?” Bilbo turned to Bard. “I thought that was the consensus when the other dragon nonsense started up years ago.”

“Yes, but it must not have stopped word from getting out that there was at one time a tamer living in the mountain,” Bard shrugged.

“Oh, good heavens,” Bilbo sighed. “And now you’re here… Thorin just allowed you to take a quick pop over this side of the Misty Mountains, did he?”

“Not exactly,” Frodo swallowed hard.

“Frodo Baggins,” Bilbo gave an exasperated sigh. “Not that I’m not pleased to see you, but what were you thinking? Were you just going to come up to the mountain and knock on the front door—not that we even have one, mind you—to inquire about a possible dragon tamer that was rumored to be long since dead?”

“Well… no, not exactly,” Frodo murmured. He hadn’t really been sure what his plan was. It had been such a spur of the moment plan, he wasn’t sure what he was thinking would happen when he got here. “I was thinking I could have come as close to the mountain as I could and ask around, I suppose. I would have run into Bard eventually and he would have told me about you…” Frodo babbled nervously. “I expect Fíli and Kíli are on their way right now to come and fetch me. Thorin too, as soon as he gets word of what I’ve done.”

“Oh, my goodness.” Bilbo’s face lit up with a smile. “Thorin…” Bilbo trailed off as he realized he could soon be reunited with Thorin so soon after so many years. But his face fell once again and he frowned deeply. “Oh, no,” Bilbo muttered under his breath.

“Why do you look upset?” Frodo frowned in confusion. “Shouldn’t you… be happy to see Thorin again?”

“I am, oh, I am, my dear boy,” Bilbo sighed. “It’s just… oh, the dragons won’t like it. Smaug will be very, very upset if they come this way. Oh, something must be done. We can think on it. I don’t suppose old Smaug will notice your scent as it’s the same as mine, I suspect. You may come stay with me tonight and we’ll wait and keep an eye out for him and Fíli and Kíli.”

“If I’d known you’d be hosting your family, I would have brought you more supplies,” Bard smiled at Bilbo.

“No, no, thank you. We’ll make do, I assure you,” Bilbo said.

“Well, then, good day, and good luck,” Bard bid them goodbye as he undocked his boat and pushed off back towards the town on the lake. “If you need anything else I’ll be here again this time next week.”

Bilbo nodded in thanks as he waved goodbye to the bargeman. Frodo stood and stared in disbelief at Bilbo.

“I can’t believe… you’re the tamer… I can’t quite wrap my head around it….”

“And I’m quite in disbelief you’re standing before me with a dragon of your own. Oh, my dear boy, come here,” Bilbo reached for another hug.

Afterwards, the two hobbits mounted their dragons and flew back to the mountain, both of them playfully weaving in and out of each other’s way and Frodo could hear Bilbo laughing, which caused Frodo to join along with his on laughter. How incredibly bizarre and impossible it all seemed!

They reached the mountain and Frodo stared in awe at the impressive dwarven architecture of the mountain kingdom. Azrâkul continued to follow the other dragon through massive winding halls and they passed so many dragons, half of which Frodo couldn’t begin to identify. Finally, they reached a grand walkway with an arch, and Bilbo’s dragon landed, so Azrâkul landed beside her.

“This way, this way!” Bilbo excitedly waved Frodo forward. The dragons followed hesitantly as Frodo followed his uncle along the pathway and towards the impressive looking arch with dwarven statues just outside.

“What is this?” Frodo asked, thinking the sight seemed magnificent yet haunting.

“The Royal Chambers of Erebor. And down this way…” Bilbo remarked as they continued down the hall, “is where your Uncle Thorin’s room was.”

“What?” Frodo questioned with a small laugh and a broad smile.

“Quite impressive, hm? Did you know your uncle was royalty here once?” Bilbo asked.

“Yes, he told us some time after you died… ah, I suppose I mean disappeared,” Frodo chuckled slightly at his slip up.

“I suppose the blasted dragon who took the kingdom from him showing up might inspire an explanation from him. Of course, he didn’t bother to tell _me_ before then, but I suppose that doesn’t matter now, does it?” Bilbo muttered.

Bilbo began to fix them a meal from some of the items Bard had brought.

“Oh, you really must tell me about you and your dragon,” Bilbo insisted as he worked.

“Me? You have to tell me about how you’re… how you’re here! How are you living in the mountain with Smaug? You said he would smell the others; doesn’t he smell you? Smaug… he’s an Alpha dragon, right?” Frodo asked, remembering his conversation with Elrond.

“Y-Yes, he is,” Bilbo stuttered, confused as to how Frodo knew about the Alpha species. “But, enough of that right now. Let’s save that tale for when your Uncle gets here, if he’s on his way like you say he probably is. Oh, heavens,” Bilbo muttered to himself.

Frodo began his tale of how he found Azrâkul and the challenges he faced after that. They sat and spoke with each other for quite some time until they were both nodding off.

“I’m ashamed to admit it, but I don’t have any other room properly cleaned to sleep in. Dís’ room is down this way, and Thorin’s brother, Frerin I believe his name was, his room is down the other way and there’s several other rooms I suppose are Thorin’s parents and whoever else would have lived here in this wing. You can sleep in my room, er, or rather Thorin’s room, with me tonight and I’ll start working on clearing out a room or two for our guests…” Bilbo trailed off thinking to himself.

Bilbo led them back to the bedchamber and readied the bed. Frodo fell into the bed and immediately fell asleep.

**x**

The next day, Frodo went out to sit on the front gate that overlooked the ruined city of Dale and Lake-Town further south. He wondered if his cousins would find him before Thorin did and he kept his eyes fixed on the sky in the west. He didn’t think they would really be able to spot him from far away but he knew if Thorin was on his way, Dwalin would be too and Vídar would be able to track his scent.

When he initially began this plan, he was supposed to go alone to the Shire and then travel on from there with little to no hindrance or worry about his family finding out. With the addition of Fíli and Kíli, Frodo knew his cousins would pursue him, but he didn’t think that Thorin would find out until after the fact. After Thorin insisted they take one of the ravens with them, he knew he would have precious little time before his uncle found out.

But now he was grateful. Thorin would be here any time and he’d find out that Bilbo was alive. Alive with some complications regarding the mountain and the dragon, but alive nonetheless. They could figure it out and then they could all be a family again.

Frodo realized he had never gotten Bilbo’s side of the story or had even asked him about the supposed dragon army that was apparently forming in this part of the world.

When he had tried to broach the topic again this morning, Bilbo dodged the questions with ease and Frodo finally decided that he’d leave Bilbo alone for a little while. Frodo supposed after living on his own for twenty years in a mountain full of dragons that Bilbo would be a little unsteady around other company.

He turned and watched as Azrâkul played with one of the young dragons that had accompanied them to the front gate. Frodo thought Bilbo called the young one Daisy. The one he referred to as a Hobblegrunt was Minty and the Changewing that always accompanied Minty was called Myrtle. Frodo couldn’t help but smile at his uncle’s names for the dragons and how ultimately hobbit-y they were.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he saw a dragon flying through the air and Frodo recognized it as a Zippleback. A Zippleback carrying two riders, circled above the forest to the west. Frodo’s heart leapt into his throat as he stared up to the sky realizing Fíli and Kíli had caught up to him relatively fast.

“Azrâkul!” Frodo called to his dragon. “Come on, we’ll play with the Erebor dragons later, I need you. Come on, boy! Come on,” Frodo urged. Azrâkul swooped up to the top of the gate and Frodo quickly mounted the Timberjack and they took off. Once they had reached a certain altitude it seemed as if Fíli and Kíli had taken notice of the new dragon that had occupied the airspace and as soon as they realized it was Frodo, they made their way towards him.

When they were within earshot he heard Kíli shout his name in relief. As they drew even closer, he could see the fear in Fíli’s eyes realizing that Frodo had come from the mountain.

 _“Did you come from the mountain!?”_ Kíli cried when he realized the same thing.

 _“What do you think you were doing?”_ Fíli added as they pulled to a halt and their dragons beat their wings to tread within the air.

“Is Thorin with you?” Frodo asked.

“He should be behind us. We sent the raven as soon as we could,” Kíli replied. “How could you have just left like that, Frodo? You didn’t leave us a note or anything! We were worried sick!”

“Come on, Frodo. We’re heading back. _Now.”_ Fíli commanded as he glanced back towards the mountain.

“No, no, we can’t. Oh, we can’t. Not yet.” Frodo couldn’t hide his grin.

“Frodo,” Fíli muttered exasperatedly. “Please.”

“What, did you find the rumored dragon tamer?” Kíli asked in a hushed tone.

“Yes!” Frodo exclaimed. “You’ll never believe it, oh my goodness, I hope Thorin is close. He must come meet the dragon tamer at once.”

“I’m not sure he’ll be as thrilled as you are, to be honest,” Fíli frowned at Frodo’s enthusiasm.

“Oh he will be, I’m certain,” Frodo beamed excitedly.

“Frodo, what have you gotten into?” Fíli groaned.

“What are you hiding from us?” Kíli asked.

“I can’t tell you, I have to show you, you would never believe me otherwise. Just come see,” Frodo told them before turning around and swooping back towards the mountains.

“Wait, Frodo!” Kíli called before Fíli urged them onwards, following Frodo towards the mountain. As Frodo reached the gate he called at a few other dragons who were waiting at the gate to follow him. To Fíli and Kíli’s surprise, the dragons perked up and followed Frodo into the mountain.

“Wait here, I’ll be back soon!” Frodo shouted down to them.

“Frodo, wait!” Fíli called. “We can’t go in, the dragons will kill us! Smaug will kill us!”

Frodo disappeared into the mountains without a second thought.

“How is it… is it because Frodo’s already made a pact with this tamer and the other dragons in the mountain? It can’t have been _that_ easy,” Fíli muttered.

“I mean, he really has a way with dragons, I suppose,” Kíli shrugged. “What if something were to happen, shouldn’t we go after him?”

“Ah, let’s… oh, Mahal, I don’t know. He said wait here, so let’s wait a little while. If we don’t hear from Frodo within the hour we’re going in. Thorin and Dwalin will just have to find us in the mountain. If we’re lucky, we won’t all die,” Fíli remarked.

Fíli and Kíli landed Brísi and Brúni in the destroyed threshold that lead into the mountain.

“We shouldn’t die if the tamer can actually tame the dragons though, right?” Kíli shrugged as he dismounted.

“That depends on if the tamer is a friend or foe and if they can actually tame Smaug,” Fíli sighed. “Apparently this tamer is friendly, but… how friendly to our folk? I wonder what has Frodo in such a whirlwind of excitement?” Fíli muttered.

“Probably just the fact that there _is_ a dragon tamer living here to begin with. That’s partially why he came out here, right? He was curious about the news of someone else managing to befriend dragons. Maybe he’s excited because the dragon tamer will be able to help with this supposed dragon army problem? I wish Thorin would have told us what was going on with Gandalf. He hadn’t even told us that Gandalf had come back and warned Thorin again about Erebor. Did he think we’d all get delusions  of grandeur like Frodo?” Kíli wondered aloud.

They talked uncertainly between themselves for quite some time and just when they were beginning to consider going into the mountain, was when they saw Frodo and another figure riding a dragon approaching the front gate. Fíli instinctively reached for a dagger and Kíli nocked an arrow on his bow as they watched the dragon follow Frodo into the entry hall. When they landed before them, Fíli and Kíli finally got a proper look at the tamer, who was approximately the same size as Frodo.

They realized the tamer was familiar. He was Bilbo.

 _“What?”_ Fíli sputtered.

“Bilbo!” Kíli exclaimed and Fíli could only stare at the other hobbit in disbelief. “What on earth… how!? How are you here?”

“A long story, my lads,” Bilbo smiled as Kíli hurried towards Bilbo to embrace him. Bilbo was startled by this sudden embrace but leaned into it, reciprocating the embrace of his dwarven nephew. Once Kíli had finally released Bilbo, Fíli stepped forward cautiously and got a good look at Bilbo.

“It really is you,” Fíli breathed before hesitantly reaching for Bilbo in a much gentler embrace.

“I’m so happy to see you both again, you have no idea,” Bilbo smiled up at them. “Do you have any idea if your Uncle is behind you? Is he close?”

“Oh, Mahal, he’s going to…” Kíli trailed off and Frodo spotted tears welling up in his eyes. “I can’t even imagine how he’ll react.”

Bilbo smiled hopefully at the thought, but soon the excitement bubbling up inside of him was quelled by all of his other anxieties surrounding Thorin’s arrival.  

“He should be here… soon, I imagine. We got a raven out as soon as we realized Frodo had up and left in the middle of the night. We’re hoping the raven got to him promptly and he immediately followed after us,” Fíli explained.

“I’m sure he did,” Frodo added quietly.

Bilbo gave a thoughtful sigh.

“Is something the matter? Do you not want to see Thorin?” Fíli asked.

“Oh, I do. I really do,” Bilbo explained, seeming terribly conflicted. “My heart is nearly leaping out of my chest in joy at the thought of seeing him again… but I’m terrified. I’ve been gone for so long… and it’s complicated with the dragons in the mountain. They don’t like dwarves, Smaug especially.” Bilbo explained hesitantly.

“And so what exactly is your relationship with Smaug?” Kíli asked. “Can you really tame him? Is your dragon tamer status true?”

“Yes… and no. It’s… as I said, very complicated. Oh, I didn’t think you’d manage to be here this quickly. I will try to explain the best I can when I have a chance, but for now I must seek out Smaug and explain to him what has happened and convince him not to roast every dwarf in sight before either of you or your uncle enters the mountain. Wish me luck,” Bilbo told them before stepping away back towards his dragon. After Bilbo and the other dragons flew off back into the mountain, it was quiet between them all for good while until Frodo finally spoke.

“He hasn’t told me how any of this is at all possible,” Frodo admitted.

“Well, obviously this started when Smaug attacked Ered Luin all those years ago, right?” Kíli asked. “When Bilbo was carried off? Was he truly able to persuade the dragon not to kill him? What about the tamer title?” Kíli questioned. Frodo only looked at his cousins with a shrug.

“I don’t know, he really hasn’t said much. I suppose that’s an effect of being left in the mountain for twenty years. He’s not used to anyone’s presence other than the dragons and it’s… difficult to talk to him about what’s going on here. I’m not sure what’s going to happen when Thorin does eventually reach the mountain. I know Thorin will be furious with me, but I can’t imagine he’ll stay upset for too long once he realizes… when he realizes _I found Bilbo._ ”

After a little more discussion about Bilbo and the possible reunion between him and their uncle, they decided they would keep their watch for Thorin at the front gate while they awaited news of Bilbo’s meeting with the dragon. Azrâkul and Brísi and Brúni chattered quietly to one another as the three of them sat at the gate and looked out into the fading afternoon. Fíli and Kíli told him that they spent a little extra time searching for Frodo and therefore they had been relatively slow. They explained that Dwalin would most likely come with Thorin since Vídar could track them easily enough and so they should have been able to fly straight through and reach the mountain soon.

“I am truly sorry for running off that night,” Frodo apologized quietly. “I never meant to get everyone tangled up in this or get anyone else in trouble with Thorin.”

“You put us in a right fit of panic when we realized your true intentions of flying this far east,” Fíli remarked. “But I suppose it… it worked out for the best, didn’t it? You did find Bilbo and I don’t think Thorin or any of us would have ever known he was here.”

“That still begs the question as to why Bilbo never came home,” Kíli wondered aloud.

“There must be some reason,” Frodo defended Bilbo. “Some reason involving the dragons or something. Because he… he could have easily taken any of these dragons that he’s ridden and turn west to come home, right?” Frodo muttered dejectedly. “I don’t know why he hasn’t. Some deal with Smaug?”

“He said he’ll explain everything. Probably once Thorin gets here. I can’t imagine him wanting to have to explain everything over and over again,” Fíli shrugged.

They continued to wait as the sun travelled across the sky. Fíli and Kíli unpacked the little food they had left and shared some with Frodo for their midday meal.

Frodo continued to cast anxious glances over his shoulder. If Bilbo was nervous about telling Smaug—Frodo still could not fully imagine his old hobbit uncle having a civil discussion with a huge, ruthless dragon such as Smaug—then Frodo was _beyond_ anxious. The more time passed, the more Frodo’s anxieties increased and the probability of having a furious Alpha dragon on their hands seemed more and more likely.

Would Smaug finally break and kill Bilbo and come to find him and Fíli and Kíli and kill them as well since they were dwarves? His hair stood up on the back of his neck as he imagined the great dragon charging towards the front gate, advancing on them from behind.  

Finally in the afternoon sun, they saw a few more forms of dragons flying in the sky and Frodo’s heart began to race and he scrutinized the form of the dragons. They had to have been Thorin on Nangûna and Dwalin on Vídar. Nangûna had a very distinct silhouette. They circled around, skirting the lake, headed straight towards the mountain.

Frodo stood up and Fíli and Kíli followed suit, realizing Frodo had seen something.

“Durin’s beard, that _was_ fast,” Kíli muttered.

“Knowing Thorin, he probably flew straight through with no practically no breaks until he reached the mountain,” Fíli remarked as they watched the dragons fly closer. Frodo’s breathing became irregular and he tried to catch his breath and keep himself from hyperventilating. He supposed he should go and find Bilbo and warn him that Thorin had arrived.

But the feeling of terror gripped his heart when he imagined finding the Alpha dragon in the depths of the mountain. Frodo, Fíli, and Kíli got down from the tall front gate of Erebor to meet Thorin on the ground leading into the grand front entry hall of Erebor. When Thorin and Dwalin finally landed they hurried forward and Frodo braced himself for the worst verbal lashing he’d ever gotten in his entire life. Instead of stopping, Thorin hurried forward and scooped Frodo into his arms.

“Oh, Mahal, I don’t know how, but you’re alive, standing in the destroyed ruins of my devastated kingdom,” Thorin’s voice broke as a sob threatened to bubble to the surface. “Why on earth would you ever…? Oh, never mind,” Thorin stopped himself, trying to will away the tears. “We must leave immediately, before we’re caught up in whatever war Gandalf has tried to entangle us in.” Thorin waved to Azrâkul to come and gather Frodo. He turned to Dwalin.

“I know we cannot go much further tonight, but we must get away from the mountain. We need to get as far as the edge of the forest,” Thorin told his cousin.

“Maybe we could stay in the town on the lake? We need more supplies to get home,” Dwalin suggested.

“I’d rather not take a chance with _Men_ ,” Thorin grumbled as he mounted Nangûna.

“Thorin, wait,” Frodo stopped him. “We can’t. There’s something you need to know.”

“You can tell me on the way,” Thorin grumbled as he pulled Nangûna away.

“N-No, Thorin. This isn’t quite an on-the-way kind of thing,” Kíli interjected.

“He’s got you wrapped into this too? You were supposed to be finding him to bring him home and now you’re wanting to stick around and wait for the dragon to discover we’re on the doorstep? No, I’ve heard enough. We’re getting back to Ered Luin as soon as possible and we’ll put this behind us.”

“Honestly, Thorin, this is truly important, we swear,” Fíli tried to convince his uncle.

“Mahal, save me, I’m going to kill you all, if the dragon doesn’t first,” Thorin barked.

“Uncle Thorin, unlike most surprises a-and dangerous things I do, you’ll actually like this one,” Frodo continued. Thorin screwed up his face in confusion at Frodo’s insistence that it would be ‘something he would like.’ “Just… try to handle it… delicately, okay?” Frodo implored.

“Frodo, we don’t have time for this,” Thorin hissed. He opened his mouth to continue, but was stopped by furious growls coming from deep within the mountain and Dwalin interrupted them.

“Ah, lads, we have a problem,” Dwalin looked into the depths of the mountain kingdom, the source of the growls growing closer until they could hear the furious dragon’s words.

“Where are they?” Smaug roared. “I smell them! Where are the dwarves?”

“Mahal save us,” Thorin murmured under his breath as he drew his sword. His heart nearly stopped. “Come on, Frodo, on your dragon _now!”_

Thorin’s fear vanished upon sight of the malicious toothy smile. Instead of being terrified like he should have been, he felt an incredible fury rise up inside of him. The evil beast who had taken his home from him when he was young… the dragon who took the life of his husband over twenty years before… he no longer could bring himself to feel scared. Only furious. If he died here and now, so be it.

 _“Oh,”_ the dragon’s toothy smile broadened. “You? The King Under the Mountain, returned to his ancestral homeland? What? To reclaim it from me? Or have you simply come for your mate? Or perhaps both?”

Thorin stared in confusion at the dragon’s words, but before he could ponder them for too long another smaller dragon that bore a rider zoomed into the large front hall.

“Smaug, no!” the rider called frantically. The small figure upon the dragon’s back was adorned with dwarvish clothing and armor, in the style from when Erebor fell over a century ago. They even bore a helmet upon their head. As the voice echoed within the halls, Thorin realized it almost struck a chord of familiarity. Perhaps he had heard the voice in a dream and he was only just remembering the voice now.

Remarkably, the dragon obeyed this rider and sat back on his haunches, his wings deflating. _Was this myth about the tamer true?_

Thorin shakily slid off the back of his dragon and stepped forward, looking on in awe as the small figure riding the smaller dragon landed and dismounted as well, standing squarely between the dragon and them. So, Gandalf, had been right after all, Thorin thought to himself. This must have been the ‘surprise’ Frodo thought he’d like. But Thorin was still unsure. Was this ‘tamer’ really a tamer and could they be trusted?

“You are no fun,” the dragon purred maliciously. “You could have at least let me play with him for a little while.”

However the small cloaked figure was no longer paying attention to the dragon or what it said. The tamer slowly made its way towards them and Thorin continued to clutch his sword, defensively. He moved to stand between the tamer and Frodo.

“Don’t take another step forward, O tamer of Smaug,” Thorin addressed the rider, raising his blade and pointing it at the tamer.

“Uncle Thorin, don’t,” Frodo muttered, stepping forward. “Put your sword down.”

Thorin hesitated but steeled himself, pushing Frodo behind him in order to protect his hobbit nephew.

“I-I must warn you, I am dangerous,” Thorin threatened shakily. He raised the blade again as the tamer came closer and swung it towards the rider as soon as he was in range. Before Thorin could blink, the tamer had brought up his own blade to block the clumsy blow. It was a blade that seemed achingly familiar to Thorin. He didn’t have time to think as the tamer completely redirected Thorin’s blow and stood observing him.

“ _Are_ you the one who is dangerous in this situation?” the dragon tamer asked in an amused, but cautious voice. “I mean… I suppose _I am_ the one with the Alpha dragon, am I not?” Smaug huffed with a chuckle, seemingly enjoying the tamer’s sharp rebuttal. “I am curious… how would you have followed through with that threat, hm? What was your plan? Were you really going to kill the dragon tamer and take control of the dragon yourself? Kill me and then kill the beast? What are you going to do, Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain?”

Thorin lowered his blade completely and the tamer did the same as he sheathed the blade. The voice was much, _much_ too familiar for Thorin to ignore any longer.

“W-Who… who are you? Do… Do I know you?” Thorin stammered as he stood trying to figure out why and how the tamer seemed so incredibly familiar to him. Was it someone he knew from before the kingdom fell? Who else? There had been an inkling… but no. He stamped out the possibility before he could dare to hope.

“I should hope that you know me,” the tamer’s hands went up to the helmet that obscured his face. With a hesitant movement the helmet was removed, revealing scraggly chestnut curls and warm, yet worn eyes. “My dearest husband.”

Thorin could not believe his eyes.

He swore he could feel his heart stop and his stomach turn as every instinct told him that this was impossible… that he must be dreaming. Somehow this couldn’t possibly be real.

_Bilbo was dead._

And yet… his dear hobbit husband who had been lost to him for _twenty years_ stood before him.

Thorin stumbled backwards as if he had been struck across the face, tears springing to his eyes as his sword clattered to the floor.

“N-No, this cannot be,” Thorin gasped quietly to himself. “Oh, Mahal, let it be true… let it be true.”

Bilbo offered a small apologetic smile.

“B-Bilbo?”

The smile broadened with a subtle nod and the smile was so familiar, it made Thorin’s chest ache tremendously.

“How can this be possible?” Thorin reached out, not quite touching the hobbit. Bilbo opened his mouth and no words came out at first. “Y-You’re dead… n-no, you’re dead!” Thorin finally sputtered out. He fought with his mind about the impossibility of it all.

For _years_ he had tried to think of ways that Bilbo could have survived. As time passed and the likelihood of any of those possibilities seemed to pass, Thorin had accepted Bilbo was dead. There was no possible hope that his husband was alive.

“Yes, yes, that’s what everyone keeps saying and yet here I am,” Bilbo smiled warmly up at his husband. Thorin blinked, staring bewildered and lost as his heart thumped so hard in his chest he was sure that everyone could hear it. When the silence got to be too much, Bilbo spoke up again.

“You… You have every right to be upset with me,” Bilbo bowed his head slightly, though maintained eye contact with the dwarf.

This quiet admittal was different than what Frodo was expecting.

“U-Upset? How in Durin’s name could I be upset?” Thorin gasped, paying no heed to the tears dripping down his cheeks. “You’re alive! You’re here, after all this time…” Thorin whispered as if he said it too loud it would suddenly become untrue.

Finally, Thorin reached forward to gently cup Bilbo’s face and tenderly tilted it upwards so that he could get a proper look at him. Bilbo smiled and briefly closed his eyes, savoring the touch of Thorin’s hands. “ _Mahal_ , you’re here… you’re here, you’re really here, aren’t you?” Thorin muttered as his fingers danced uncertainly across the hobbit’s cheek and Bilbo opened his eyes again. “Oh, Mahal.”

A few tears dripped from Bilbo’s eyes… how he’d longed for Thorin’s touch over the past decades, though Thorin’s hands were much softer than he remembered. Bilbo looked up towards the dwarf and he could see how much Thorin had truly aged. Grey hair now predominantly streaked the dark tangles and the wrinkles in his forehead and around his eyes were much more pronounced.

“Look at you,” Bilbo whispered. “You’ve grown old without me.” The hobbit’s voice cracked as more tears escaped.

“And you haven’t aged a day,” Thorin smiled and Bilbo blushed beneath his tears. “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

Thorin finally leaned down to capture Bilbo’s lips with his own. It was soft and tentative as if it had been their first kiss. As their tears mixed, their gentle kiss was wet and messy. They broke and Thorin’s nose nuzzled Bilbo’s before his forehead pressed against the hobbit’s.

“I thought I’d have to die before I’d see you again,” Thorin muttered unbelievingly, through his tears.

“No need for drastic measures.” Bilbo laughed, breathlessly, pulling Thorin in for another quick kiss and gently brushing Thorin’s tears away.

It wasn’t enough to calm Thorin and his shuddering breaths dissolved into loud broken sobs, burying his face into the crook of Bilbo’s neck. Thorin continued to murmur his disbelief as Bilbo gently stroked his hair.

“Come now, there’s no need for that,” Bilbo sighed as he continued to hold Thorin.

“I’m so sorry, Bilbo. I-I-I should have come for you,” Thorin began to apologize. “I-If I’d had any idea that you were alive, I would have gathered every Dwarf in Middle-Earth… I would have… I-I...”

“Hush,” Bilbo murmured. “I would have thought you mad if you believed I had any chance, whisked away on the back of Smaug.”

“H-How is this even possible?” Thorin looked up, his gaze returning to the dragon. “H-How did you survive against the dragon? Why is it that he has not killed you?”

“A story for another time,” Bilbo suggested quietly. “But we are in no danger from Smaug.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Ring-bearer,” Smaug sneered as he impatiently flicked his tail impatiently, slicing across a stone column and collapsing it. Frodo and the dwarves jumped, startled by the sudden noise and Bilbo rolled his eyes.

“Enough of that, you’re going to cave the whole mountain in on us! Can you control your temper for two minutes, please?” Bilbo snapped at the dragon. “I haven’t seen my family in a very long time. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t throw a tantrum right now.”

“I was tiring of the emotional hysterics anyway,” Smaug retorted before he finally sulked away, heading to the lower depths of the treasury. “Rest assured, the dwarves will not be welcomed here permanently.”

“That is not for you to decide, you great ugly brute!” Bilbo yelled after the retreating form of the dragon.

Thorin watched the exchange with his mouth hanging agape.

“H-How is it you manage the dragon like so?” Thorin muttered, confusion clouding his features.

“It’s difficult to explain, but we do share a bond which allows me some…persuasion over the dragons,” Bilbo explained vaguely.

“We have so much to discuss,” Thorin remarked.

“I believe we do. Let’s retire for the evening, hm? If you’ll all follow me, we can rest for the time being.” Bilbo mounted Minty and the others followed suit. They followed Bilbo’s dragon up through the levels of the mountain until Thorin realized where they were headed. The memory of these halls had haunted his dreams. Finally, they landed outside the royal wing. Bilbo could see Thorin taking in the sight of the abandoned wing rather mournfully.

“I’ve actually been… ah, sleeping in your old room,” Bilbo explained to Thorin as he slid off the dragon.

“My…?” Thorin started, blinking in confusion at the hobbit.

“If I’ve learned correctly, you were once heir to the throne here,” Bilbo mentioned. “Upon learning that, I sought out your old chambers here in the mountain. They’ve been a great deal of comfort to me.”

“How old were you when the mountain fell, Uncle Thorin?” Frodo asked.

“Hardly more than a child,” Thorin murmured. “Twenty-four.”

“Younger than I am,” Frodo realized. “Much younger, by dwarven standards.”

“Yes,” Thorin nodded weakly.

“Well? Come in, everyone,” Bilbo told them as he entered Thorin’s chambers.

“It is…strange having you welcoming me into my own rooms,” Thorin muttered as he looked around the place, trying to take everything in.

“I…meant no disrespect by using your rooms. You must understand I thought I would never see you again and that it was impossible you’d ever come back to… I just…” Bilbo trailed off quietly. “The thought of… I’m sorry,” Bilbo concluded.

“I’m not mad, Bilbo,” Thorin told him softly, gently reaching out to touch Bilbo’s arm. Bilbo glanced back at Thorin and there was a tense silence that filled the room as Bilbo averted his gaze and pulled away from Thorin’s touch. He quickly avoided the tension by turning his attention to trying to fix a meal for his family. Bilbo led them out of the room and towards the royal kitchens. As he began to cook, he explained most of his food was meager rations from Lake-Town and usually the dragons brought him fresh meat from time to time and that he could make a decent rabbit soup.

“Anything sounds good to me,” Dwalin explained, trying to disperse the anxious air between Bilbo and Thorin. “I’m starved; we’ve been traveling all day.”

Bilbo finished up cooking and they all fell silent as they ate. He stared at nothing in particular as he sat, not having anything of his own to eat. His face was blank and entirely unreadable. Thorin couldn’t take his eyes off Bilbo, as if he were still trying to determine if he’d finally lost it and Bilbo was merely a hallucination of his aged, grief-stricken mind.

Frodo helped clean up as Bilbo showed him how the old water pumps in the mountain worked.

“They’re quite a bit different than the ones we had in the Shire, but not so different from those in Ered Luin. No coincidence I suppose, considering Erebor Dwarves founded that settlement if I’m not mistaken…” Bilbo muttered. Thorin offered no information to contradict Bilbo’s hypothesis.

As Frodo worked, Bilbo sighed as he looked at the boy.

“Goodness, I can’t believe how much you’ve grown,” Bilbo sighed as he smiled sadly. “How old are you now?” Bilbo asked.

“Thirty-three, just two months ago,” Frodo told him.

“Thirty-three already?” Bilbo raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I’ve…I’ve been absent for twenty years,” Bilbo began to realize. “I’m...so sorry.”

“Well, I mean, you haven’t changed one bit,” Frodo smiled. It was true. Frodo hadn’t exactly noticed Thorin aging, but seeing them together again, Bilbo truly did look the same despite the uneven scraggly hair and the weight loss. Thorin looked incredibly aged as he stood next to Bilbo. Frodo began to really notice how much grey was in his beard and the ever-increasing streaks of silver in his hair as well as the creased wrinkles on his face.

“Besides, there’s no need to apologize. I can’t imagine this is your fault anyway, Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo muttered, trying to convince himself of this statement. As Frodo had mentioned earlier to Fíli and Kíli, he was bewildered at why Bilbo hadn’t tried to come home before this. Here Bilbo had tamed the dragons, learned how to ride them, and never thought about coming home? Surely he had the means to. Something else must have been keeping Bilbo from returning to them…something that was out of Bilbo’s control.

Frodo’s statement seemed to weigh on Bilbo’s mind considerably, seemingly reluctant to tell his nephew the full truth. Bilbo only gave him a strained smiled and nodded, before falling silent again. Bilbo led them back to Thorin’s chamber to retire for the evening.

When they finished with the dishes, the dwarves watched them, looking at Bilbo as if waiting for an explanation or information about how he got to be there. But Bilbo was too exhausted to start to think about telling all of them anything. He turned and led them back to Thorin’s chambers without a second glance behind him.

They arrived back in the antechamber to Thorin’s room, Bilbo went and looked out the window to the dark and ruined kingdom and a few of the dragons flew nearby, still active in the later hours.

Thorin could tell Bilbo was not up to discussing anything and he slowly made his way to the hobbit’s side. His hand trembled as he reached out to Bilbo yet again and gently rested it on the hobbit’s shoulder. The hobbit continued to look away and Thorin sighed.

When Thorin began to whistle a soft tune, Bilbo tensed beneath Thorin’s hand. Frodo instantly recognized the tune. Thorin would hum it softly when he was younger just after Bilbo had disappeared. But since then Frodo hadn’t heard it in quite a long time.

 _“I’ll swim and sail on savage seas…”_ Thorin murmured so softly it was difficult to hear. _“With ne’er a fear of drowning… and gladly ride the waves of life, if you would marry me…”_ Thorin’s voice dropped for a moment.

Bilbo began to relax a little although he wouldn’t turn to meet Thorin’s gaze.

 _“No scorching sun nor freezing cold, will stop me on my journey…”_ Thorin sang a little louder, his deep voice resonating through the chamber. His hand dropped from Bilbo’s back and tentatively reached out to grasp Bilbo’s hand. _“If you will promise me your_ … _heart.”_ Thorin gently pulled the hobbit’s hand towards his chest. _“And…_ love _…”_

When Bilbo still made no attempts to join Thorin, Thorin’s voice began to falter and he began to feel discouraged that Bilbo would ever respond.

Slowly, Bilbo turned to Thorin with a small smile as the nostalgia overtook him.

“And… love me for eternity…”

Bilbo finally looked up to meet Thorin’s eyes. Relief spread over Thorin’s features as Bilbo slowly turned to face him.

“ _My dearest one, my darling dear,_ _your mighty words astound me,”_ Bilbo sang softly, his voice faltering a little. Bilbo couldn’t remember the last time he had sang anything, but the words came flooding back to him. “ _But I’ve no need of mighty deeds,_ _when I feel your arms around me._ ” Bilbo finished his verse with bashful smile as Thorin laughed in relief.

Frodo couldn’t help but grin. He’d never seen Thorin laugh and smile like this, at least not since Bilbo had disappeared. His heart constricted as he watched Bilbo and Thorin began to dance, retracing the steps to their first dance as a married couple, joy radiating from both of them.

“ _But I would bring you rings of gold,_ _I'd even sing you poetry!_ _And I would keep you from all harm_ _if you would stay beside me,”_ Thorin sang brightly.

“ _I-I have no use for rings of gold,”_ Bilbo stuttered a bit, tripping on Thorin’s feet. “ _I care not for your poetry._ _I only want your hand to hold—”_

 _“I only want you near me!”_ Thorin chimed in as he steadied Bilbo on his feet.

 _“To love and kiss, to sweetly hold!_ _For the dancing and the dreaming!_ _Through all life’s sorrows and delights,_ _I’ll keep your love inside me!”_ The two of them sang as they twirled and danced. Frodo couldn’t help but notice Dwalin tapping his foot along to the tune.

 _“I’ll swim and sail on savage seas_ _with ne'er a fear of drowning!_ _And gladly ride the waves of life,_ _if you will marry me!”_ They ended the song and collapsed into each other in a tight embrace.

Fíli and Kíli cheered and Frodo laughed as he joined his cousins in applause. Bilbo and Thorin pulled away from each other with bashful smiles.

“Oh, heavens,” Bilbo breathed. “I can’t believe you remembered our song.”

“Of course, I did,” Thorin smiled softly before pressing a bristly kiss to Bilbo’s forehead. Bilbo looked up at him with a warm sense of relief, allowing Thorin to rock them back and forth a little longer, slowly dancing as they gazed at each other in awe that the other was truly there.

“Ah… erm, should we let you two catch up?” Dwalin asked as he suddenly got up, startling the others. “It’s been a long day afterall.”

“Oh,” Bilbo stopped their gentle swaying and let go of Thorin. “I’ve tried to clean up a few of the other rooms. I’m afraid I only got Dís’ room done, really. I thought you boys might want to see the room your mother lived in as a young girl.”

“That sounds good,” Dwalin nodded. “Frodo, you too?” Dwalin pointedly looked at the hobbit.

“Oh,” Frodo realized that Dwalin was trying to whisk them all away so Bilbo and Thorin could spend some time privately together. “Yes, of course. I’d love to see where Aunt Dís’ room is,” Frodo nodded as he glanced back at Bilbo and Thorin before he followed his cousins and Dwalin out of the antechamber.

The door shut behind them and Bilbo chuckled.

“They could have slept here in the antechamber too,” Bilbo murmured. “I don’t know why they suddenly got so jumpy.”

“Let’s head to bed,” Thorin insisted as he pulled Bilbo gently towards the bedroom.

“Hm, right,” Bilbo sighed as he followed alongside his husband.

“Are you… comfortable sharing a bed again?” Thorin asked as he watched Bilbo begin to shed his layers and begin to situate the furs on the bed.

“Of course,” Bilbo gave him a small nod as he sat down on the bed. Thorin came around and sat beside Bilbo.

“It is…truly bizarre to be here in this bed with you. It looks nearly the same, despite the age. Ah, see this?” Thorin pointed to a scorch mark on the inside of the curtains that draped the four-poster bed. “I’d accidentally set the curtains on fire here one night when my brother invaded my room and was trying to roughhouse with me after our bedtime. I had lit a candle in my hand when I heard him enter and then he tackled me…I tried to keep the candle level but by doing so I raised it too high and set the curtains on fire…” Thorin chuckled as he trailed off and Bilbo remained silent, keeping a steady gaze on him.

Bilbo reached out and took Thorin’s hand into his own.

“Why did you never tell me about Erebor?” Bilbo asked. “Married to you for four years before I was taken and you never felt the need to mention you were heir to a kingdom of this size?”

“It was never your burden to bear,” Thorin murmured, his gaze now lowering as he stared at the hearth and the fire dancing within.

“But it was never yours to bear alone.” Bilbo sat up straighter.  

“What would it have changed, Bilbo?” Thorin asked with an exhausted sigh.

“Nothing,” Bilbo murmured. “But I thought I might have known my own husband better. You’d never even… mention your past. I had to learn it from the dragon that took it all from you.”

“Did you ever stop to realize why that was?” Thorin bit back sourly. “I don’t want to have to remember. I hated thinking I was a failure… that I’d never… it was _impossible…_ ” Thorin trailed off, turning away to try and hide the emotion bleeding through his voice. “It was better that you only knew and saw me as Thorin Oakenshield, not Thorin son of Thrain, the failed and exiled King Under the Mountain. I was hardly worthy as a leader in Ered Luin.”

“Thorin, you’re not a failure,” Bilbo offered softly. “I _never_ would have seen you as a failure. Like you said, you’d been burdened with an impossible task of trying to reclaim a place such as this from a _nest of dragons?_ I would have thought you a fool if you’d thought you _could_ reclaim this place again.”

Thorin looked as if he wanted to snap back a retort but stopped himself.

“And here you are. You claimed the mountain nearly two decades ago with no help at all.” Thorin muttered despondently.

“I wouldn’t say I had no help,” Bilbo sighed softly. Thorin looked questioningly at the hobbit. Bilbo sat up and quietly reached for a chain around his neck and pulled it outside of his shirt revealing the gold ring that had granted him powers over the dragons.

Thorin’s eyes shone for a moment taking in the seemingly harmless trinket.

“Wh-What is that?” Thorin asked.

“A ring,” Bilbo pulled the ring to sit in the palm of his hand.

“May I see it?” Thorin held out his hand to take the ring. Bilbo closed his hand immediately and Thorin furrowed his brow. “I don’t mean to steal it from you, Bilbo.”

“I… I know…” Bilbo muttered as his fingers slowly opened again. Thorin didn’t reach out to take it this time, and only admired from afar.

“A _ring_ has allowed you this life?” Thorin questioned.

“The way I understand it, there is a special connection between the one who bears this ring and an Alpha dragon such as Smaug.” Bilbo explained, hastily closing his fingers again and stuffing the chain down his shirt.

“Alpha?” Thorin frowned.

“Alpha’s are able to control other dragons and protect them by finding and creating fortified nests such as this,” Bilbo answered.

“And you have control of Smaug… which means _you_ have control over all dragons here?” Thorin realized as he stared at his husband, his mouth hanging agape.

“Well, I don’t know about that. I suppose so. I mean it’s kept me from being eaten alive and I consider these dragons friends now.”

“ _Friends._ ” Thorin scoffed after a beat. “Mahal, you’re just as bad as Frodo, aren’t you? Smaug killed thousands of my people and he’s now your friend?” Thorin snapped.

“Thorin, I never said what Smaug did wasn’t horrendous. It was. It was horrendous and tragic and sometimes I can’t bear living in a mountain where so many people have died. But with this ring, Smaug is now an ally. He attacked the mountain so he could build his nest and protect the dragons under his care. Conditions in the North were poor and the dragons were dying… he had to…” Bilbo trailed off and Thorin clenched his jaw so tightly Bilbo saw a vein on his temple pop.

“Besides, I thought you were friends with the dragons now too,” Bilbo continued softly. “It wasn’t just Frodo who arrived on the back of a dragon he loved and trusted. Isn’t your dragon your friend and companion like Frodo and his dragon?

“Well, I suppose. But _Smaug_ …” Thorin trailed off.

“Smaug is a troublesome, arrogant brute, but he does care for the dragons in the mountain. I’d like to think he’s begun to care about me, beside the fact I’m the Ring-bearer.”

Thorin sighed deeply as he avoided Bilbo’s gaze.

“I don’t like it,” Thorin finally muttered.

“Well, you don’t have to like it,” Bilbo huffed. “But you need to learn to tolerate it. Smaug is the best chance… as we speak a great dragon army is being formed. As I understand it, you’ve already been warned by Gandalf, the old wizard.”

“Yes… he came to warn us and advise that we attempt to retake the mountain.  In fact, he’s paid us a visit years before this insisting that we take the mountain. He wanted to employ you as well, as a dragon expert because of the information your mother had. He warned us about the growing threat then. Frodo overheard us this time and when Gandalf mentioned the rumor about the tamer… he got his foolish idea to come here and see for himself.”

“It’s a pressing threat, Thorin. Even with Smaug on our side now, their numbers are staggering.”

“Isn’t Smaug supposed to control dragons? Why aren’t those dragons listening to him?”

“The orcs have some kind of control of them that even Smaug’s status as Alpha cannot pierce,” Bilbo sighed. “We can’t figure it out. Between being Ring-bearer and the Alpha status Smaug holds, there should be no power greater than us to those dragons. Yet, they have found a way to override Smaug’s control of the dragons in the region.”

“That is… worrisome news,” Thorin agreed. “That is why we must return to Ered Luin immediately.”

“ _What?”_ Bilbo gasped in surprise. “Absolutely not, Thorin!”

“You know it’s not safe here! Relinquish the ring, let Smaug go back to ruling his nest for as long as he can and we’ll go home and be a proper family again far away from this danger.” Thorin begged.

“You know as well as I do that there will be no home… no normal life left for us if Azog takes the mountain and the dragons within including Smaug.” Bilbo argued.

“…Azog?” Thorin frowned.  

“Oh, he’s the orc in charge of the dragon army,” Bilbo explained as a side note.

“No,” Thorin breathed. “No, that cannot be.” Thorin gave Bilbo a frenzied look. “You’re sure… Azog is the orc’s name? Not Bolg?”

“Bolg is spawn of Azog and controls part of the army. But Azog controls them all,” Bilbo explained.

“He… he was slain in battle, he’s dead,” Thorin shook his head in disbelief. “You’re mistaken.”

“No, Thorin,” Bilbo shook his head. “Azog, the Pale Orc, is alive and well and building his armies with dragons. I know, I’ve spent the last several years gathering as much information as I can about the army. Azog is the name of the orc who commands them all… how do you know of the orc?”

“He’s the one who killed my grandfather in the Battle of Azanulbizar and he’s determined to slay the line of Durin,” Thorin murmured.

“Was that the battle you earned the name Oakenshield?” Bilbo asked. He’d heard the story before, but Thorin had spared him many gruesome details, only telling him there was a great battle between Dwarves and Orcs. Thorin had told him several members of his family had died and that he had taken up an oaken branch as a shield, earning his moniker, Oakenshield.

Thorin nodded solemnly.

“It is troubling news to know he is still alive and building a dragon army,” Thorin sighed as he rubbed his temples.

“You understand now that I have to stay and protect the nest.” Bilbo wrung his hands anxiously.

Thorin remained silent and Bilbo could tell his mind was racing.

“Thorin,” Bilbo finally sighed again. “I don’t mean to… force you to do anything, but this mountain is your birthright. You shouldn’t… you’re here, is what I mean. You’re here and I’m here and we can keep the mountain safe together and…” Bilbo trailed off. “It is your birthright,” Bilbo repeated. “It’s your duty to your people to do everything you can to reclaim this homeland.”

“What do you know of _my duty?_ It’s my duty to keep my people safe,” Thorin retorted. Bilbo frowned at Thorin’s terse response and Thorin sighed when he realized his tone had been much harsher than he had intended. He looked away from Bilbo before quietly continuing. “I… do you think there is any chance the mountain could ever be home to the Dwarves again?”

“I don’t know,” Bilbo murmured. “I would hope it could. With some restoration and persuasion, of course…”

“You’d be able to convince all the dragons to live harmoniously with Dwarves?” Thorin asked.

“Would you be able to convince Dwarves to live harmoniously with the dragons? Specifically the dragon that took their kingdom from them?”

“I… I believe the Ered Luin dwarves would be easy enough to persuade,” Thorin nodded. “We live harmoniously with dragons now. Certainly, we’ve never had to live harmoniously with the dragon that took our home from us in the first place. But if Smaug could be convinced to relinquish part of his nest back to the dwarves… I don’t know. I still don’t know if I would ever be able to trust him after what he did to my people.”

Bilbo gave an uncertain sigh.

“There’s also the issue of the dragons here being so used to having free reign of the mountain. There are more infested areas than others. It is possible to keep dragons to one area and rebuild for the Dwarves in the other…” Bilbo trailed off. “But Smaug is another thing… I don’t know either, Thorin. It would be difficult and… I just don’t know… this is what I’d feared. I just… I don’t want to think about this right now. Can we talk about the future for this mountain when we know it is a certainty and when I’m not so tired, please? It’s been… an exhausting day, to say the least.”

Thorin sighed and muttered a quiet apology in acknowledgement.

Bilbo nodded before turning and putting out the candle at his bedside and silently settled into bed, faced away from Thorin without another word.

Thorin sighed and put out the candle on his side of the bed, pulling the covers up to his chest and turning away from Bilbo. Before his mind could even begin to race through the day’s impossible turn of events, he fell fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE HERE. NEARLY THREE YEARS AFTER THE START OF THIS FIC WE ARE HERE!!! But the good stuff is still on it's way B))) Apologies as always for the delay on this chapter, I've been insanely busy as I enter my final semester of university and all that good stuff. Also had a switch up in beta's and sorting that out took a little extra time, so super special shout out to [Ally](http://chibistarlyte.tumblr.com/) (also found[here on ao3!)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/chibistarlyte) for stepping in and helping beta this crucial chapter!


	23. Battle Preparations

When Thorin woke again, he turned over to find the bed empty, and he felt as if he were in a daze.

He was back in his bed in Erebor. Thorin faintly remembered being reunited with Bilbo, but the hobbit’s absence made him question if it had been real or if had simply been a dream. It all seemed too bizarre to have actually happened. There were muffled voices, and Thorin finally pulled himself out of bed and made his way towards the source.

“What’s going on?” Thorin asked when he found his family arguing. He looked to Bilbo first, and Bilbo folded his arms and looked away. Thorin’s gaze then went to Dwalin. 

“Bilbo’s told us what is happening with the dragons. They all want to scatter and go collect help from others, but it’s mad. This whole thing is mad. _ A dragon army?” _ Dwalin frowned at Thorin.

“We need to fetch help,” Kíli said. “Frodo said he met a potential ally west of the forest that might help. Dwalin can go east and seek help from the Iron Hills. Fíli can go back to Ered Luin and gather as many dragon riders as he can. I’ll fly to Mirkwood and petition the Elven-King. They’re the closest force we can call upon on such short notice.”

“Waste of time,” Thorin grumbled. “They will not help.”

“Already told ‘im that,” Dwalin sighed.

“A century ago they wouldn’t help,” Kíli argued. “They may be willing to help now, given the circumstances.”

“Doubtful,” Thorin replied tersely. “How much time do we have until they get here?” Thorin turned back to Bilbo.

“It’s not a matter of distance. The army is already practically upon us. I’ve been monitoring their activity for years as they amassed numbers and have yet to make their move yet. They’re waiting for something, whether it’s for more reinforcements or otherwise, it would be ideal to attack while we have the chance,” Bilbo advised. “Minty, Myrtle and I have been able to go out and sabotage some of their efforts and slow them down the past few years, but I can’t hold them off forever.”

“We’re talking about making the first move against them?” Thorin gave an exasperated sigh. “No, Bilbo. Absolutely not.”

“Thorin, I’ve never had a chance like this. I had no idea there were other dragon riders out there let alone  _ my own nephew and husband!  _ If there are more dragon riders back in Ered Luin, we actually have a shot, and we need to take it…  _ especially _ because this is your ancestral homeland.”

“You’re doing this for the dragons,” Thorin grumbled. “That’s the only reason why you want my people—my kin—to come and foolishly risk their lives for a ruined kingdom.”

“Yes, I am doing it for the dragons. I am fond of them, and I would be devastated if this nest was destroyed by the likes of those orcs and enslaved by them,” Bilbo admitted. “But I am also doing it out of loyalty to your people. It is your ancestral homeland, and we can reclaim it,  _ together _ . You said Gandalf wished for the mountain to be reclaimed. He warned you that this evil would spread if it is not. We’ve been reunited by some bizarre twist of fate and  _ now _ is the time to accomplish that. We need to eliminate Azog and his forces while we can. After that we can decide what is to be done about the mountain, the dragons, and your people,” Bilbo snapped.

“Do  _ not _ speak of loyalty to  _ my people,” _ Thorin hissed.

“Thorin, please,” Bilbo sighed. “I  _ do  _ feel a sense of loyalty to your kin. I love you, and I love my dwarven family.” Bilbo’s gaze faintly flickered over at Fíli and Kíli. “Is that not enough to feel a sense of loyalty?” 

“You knew us for four short years, and you’ve been here for  _ twenty years _ with the dragons! What about your special connection with Smaug and your ring? You’re practically one of  _ them _ at this point. Not even a whisper of your survival, no word from you for all these years. You couldn’t have dropped a message to me, ‘Dearest Thorin, just thought I’d let you know I’m not dead and I’m currently alive and well with the dragon that stole your mountain and killed your family. Much love, Bilbo.’”

“Uncle Thorin, that’s unfair,” Frodo muttered, looking bewildered and upset by Bilbo and Thorin’s tone with one another. Neither of them acknowledged Frodo’s interjection.

“It’s a little more difficult than that when you’re isolated in a mountain kingdom filled with dragons, you know,” Bilbo spat back bitterly. 

“What is going on here?” Kíli gave them a bewildered look. “What is with this hostility? Last night we were all singing and dancing and...celebrating and happy!”

Bilbo and Thorin fell silent and glanced at the younger dwarf before turning their glares back at each other. Bilbo was the first to drop his hostile, defensive expression and drop his gaze to the floor. 

“It just wasn’t like that, Thorin,” Bilbo continued in a softer voice. “I would have sent word if I could have, it’s just that…” Bilbo trailed off. “I couldn’t. I really couldn’t. If Smaug found out… he could have returned to Ered Luin and killed the rest of you. Do you understand now? I  _ couldn’t _ return home. I couldn’t send word because I was petrified of the consequences!” 

“What happened to the power over the dragons?” Thorin argued. “Couldn’t you have commanded them not to retaliate?”

“It wasn’t just the dragons I was worried about. If you were still alive after Smaug’s attack—I wasn’t completely sure if you had survived at all, you see—and I had sent word that I was still alive you would come for me, as you said you would have yesterday. I couldn’t take that chance either. Even now I’m not completely sure about how much I can convince Smaug not to kill every single one of you. My control is not absolute. It is an influence, of course, but I cannot wield absolute control over the dragon.” 

Thorin finally began to loosen his tense, defensive expression and deflate, looking defeated as he turned over Bilbo’s explanation in his head. 

Dwalin finally interjected.

“There’s no need for arguing now. It’s in the past, and there’s nothing we can do to change it. It’s understandable there are going to be some disagreements here after twenty years apart, but Thorin, we don’t know the entirety of Bilbo’s story. We can discuss these things without becoming hostile towards one another. I would imagine neither of you  _ wishes _ to be hostile with each other after all this time apart.”

“I know enough of Bilbo’s story,” Thorin gave a quiet answer.

“Thorin, by the sounds of it, this siege is unavoidable. Bilbo is right. We need to strike while the enemy is not prepared,” Fíli interjected. 

“You know nothing of war. Not like I do. It’s not that simple,” Thorin argued. “I do not want to send my nephews to battle.” 

“No one  _ wants _ to send them into battle, Thorin,” Bilbo muttered. 

“Uncle, there’s nothing we can do. If we wait, it’s only going to be worse than it already is. It’s the only hope of saving this mountain and keeping away whatever evil would seek to have a hold on Erebor,” Fíli spoke up. “Whether we reclaim the mountain or not after it’s all said and done, I would rather have Smaug, and the mountain, remain in Bilbo’s hands instead of the hands of these orcs. I will return home and petition our riders and any other warriors who would brave the flight here, but I shall need another dragon,” Fíli looked to Bilbo.

“Ah, right, Kíli will take the Zippleback, leaving you dragonless, hm? I shall find a dragon for you. You’ll need a faster dragon anyway, if you’re to return to Ered Luin and come back in a timely manner,” Bilbo muttered. “Thank you, lad.”

Fíli nodded with a small smile.

“Frodo will go for his ally in the west,” Bilbo nodded.

“Who is this ally? Do I know them?” Thorin looked bewildered at Frodo. 

“Ah, erm… on the way here I met him. He’s a skin-changer a-and fond of all living things. He doesn’t particularly like dragons, but he offered his help if we needed it. He doesn’t want to see the dragons fall into the hands of the orcs. Now that I can confirm that there is indeed a tamer and friend of the dragons in the mountain, I’m sure he’ll come to our aid,” Frodo explained. 

Thorin dropped his gaze to the floor, rubbed his temple and shut his eyes with a soft groan. 

“So, that only leaves Dwalin,” Bilbo looked to the dwarf in question, while Thorin remained silent on the matter. “Will you petition your kin in the Iron Hills?”

“Only if Thorin will permit it,” Dwalin glanced from Bilbo to Thorin. Thorin looked up with pursed his lips with a frustrated expression on his face.

“I know it’s dangerous, Thorin,” Bilbo spoke softly, “I won’t pretend to be a better authority than you on what is best for you and your people. But it is important that this mountain is protected from the evil that seeks it—not just for me, not just for your kin, but for everyone.” Bilbo tried to convince Thorin.

“But _ why  _ at the cost of _ my people?” _ Thorin hissed. 

“I’m sorry, Thorin,” Bilbo shook his head. “I’m sorry that this weight lands on you and your people, but please. This... being reunited with you... it happened for a reason. This is the best chance we’ll ever get, and I am going against that army eventually, one way or another.”  

“You don’t have to,” Thorin sighed softly. “ _ Please, _ Bilbo. Please… just come home with us.” 

“I can’t, Thorin. I can’t, I’m sorry,” Bilbo shook his head.  

“Very well,” Thorin sighed at long last. “Go to Dain and seek his aid. Frodo will…” Thorin gave a long suffering sigh. “Frodo will go to this supposed ally he’s found, but come back immediately if you face any trouble. I wish Kíli luck on his mission to Mirkwood and Fíli…” Thorin trailed off, “I have no idea how your mother will react to this news, but it is crucial she is here at our side if we are to attempt this.”

**x**

They all prepared to depart as soon as possible and restocked their packs as much as they could. Bilbo was able to convince Myrtle to ferry Fíli back to Ered Luin. That afternoon the four of them took off, leaving Bilbo and Thorin alone on the battlements watching the dragons depart.

“What task would you set for me? You seemed to have everyone pegged for certain tasks, what will mine be?” Thorin questioned.

“You will go on patrol with me,” Bilbo decided, avoiding Thorin’s gaze as he turned away and left the damaged battlements and headed back into the mountain.

“Now?” Thorin asked.

“Yes, now,” Bilbo reached the end of the grand entrance hall where Minty had perched with Nangûna.

“Bilbo, it’s nearly evening. Wouldn’t it be best if we begin a patrol early in the morning?” Thorin questioned.

“We won’t need that much time. We’ll be back before sunset, I promise,” Bilbo explained gravely.

They both mounted their dragons, and the Stormcutter followed the Hobblegrunt as they left the mountain. Instead of turning east or west as Fíli, Kíli, and Dwalin had, they turned north. It wasn’t long before they descended and landed in a clearing. They dismounted, and Bilbo told the dragons to stay where they were, and they would be back within the hour.

Bilbo drew the blade at his side, and Thorin recognized it was the blade he had crafted for their wedding. The hilt and blade no longer shone as they once had and the edge had dulled considerably.

Thorin felt a twinge of guilt, remembering he had never shown Bilbo how to sharpen the blade properly because he had always done it. It didn’t need sharpening often, as Bilbo had refused to use the sword very much when they were in Ered Luin together. They’d had a few practice sessions throughout the years, and Thorin usually ensured the blade was sharpened and shined each year on their anniversary as a promise to never let their love diminish.

Now the blade was worn and not cared for properly, and Thorin frowned at the connotation that it now carried.

“You are making a racket,” Bilbo hissed, bringing Thorin out of his thoughts. He hadn’t meant to, but his boot-clad feet had left a trail of broken twigs and crunched leaves behind him.

“Sorry,” Thorin breathed as he turned his focus to minimizing the noise he made. Bilbo was effortlessly silent, and Thorin awed at the hobbit’s ability to move so quietly. He supposed the lack of boots made that easier.

Finally they reached a ridge that dropped down into a wide valley. Bilbo perched close to the ground, surveying the sprawling camps and settlements that had spread to cover the entirety of the valley. Dragon noises drifted from the valley, and at the sight of the masses of dragons gathered for Azog's army, Thorin’s heart pounded in his chest. Small shapes moved in and out of tents, and crude temporary buildings and small smoke plumes rose from fires and torches scattered throughout the camp.  

“These are Azog’s forces. This is merely the southernmost post. There are camps larger than this, spread through the north, stretching all the way out to the coasts. Their goal is Erebor and Smaug,” Bilbo whispered.

Thorin was speechless. He knew Bilbo spoke of many legions of orcs who had enslaved dragons, but this was beyond anything Thorin had imagined.

“I still don’t see how any number of allies will help us against this formidable army,” Thorin muttered.

“You forget our most formidable ally,” Bilbo smiled darkly at Thorin.

“Smaug,” Thorin nodded. “You said his power against the dragons who answer to the orcs is nonexistent.”

“We also have all the dragons who reside in Erebor,” Bilbo explained. “They are still loyal to Smaug. I believe we can hold our power over them, as Ring-bearer and Alpha.”

Thorin hummed uncertainly. They watched the camp in silence for a while and just as they were getting ready to get up and return to their dragons, Bilbo pulled Thorin back.

“Wait,” Bilbo hissed. Two dragons with the faint outline of riders in the late afternoon light rose into the sky.

“Did they spot us?” Thorin hissed. Bilbo’s hand squeezed Thorin’s arm and remained silent as he watched. “Bilbo,” Thorin prompted as they watched the dragons continue to fly their way.

“If we move, there’s a better chance they’ll spot us,” Bilbo muttered.

“If we _ don’t  _ move and they’re headed for us, we’re done for,” Thorin argued.

“Stay still,” Bilbo snapped. 

The orcs flew directly over their heads, and for a moment Bilbo thought they didn’t see them. However, the orcs landed, dismounted and made their way towards them. Thorin gave a loud whistle as the orcs approached. Bilbo shot him a confused look but immediately turned his attention back to the orcs. 

“What’s this?” one of the orcs hissed. 

“I think it’s the troublemaking dragon-rider… and a friend. A filthy dwarf,” the other orc stepped forward, drawing his sword.

“I don’t see their dragons,” the first orc observed menacingly. “All alone with no protection. What do you think? Kill the filthy dwarf first? Make the dragon-rider watch?” 

“Don’t you dare touch him,” Bilbo hissed, brandishing his sword. Thorin hardly had time to react, and he was taken aback by Bilbo’s brashness at threatening the orcs. 

“Bilbo,” Thorin croaked, pulling Bilbo back, trying to take his place in front of Bilbo. 

“Then we’ll take the rider apart piece by piece and feed ‘im to the dragons for all the problems he’s caused us.”

“ _ No!” _ Thorin barked. 

Without another word, the orc lunged forward, but Bilbo parried the attack and Thorin swept around the side and stuck his blade into the orcs side. Before Thorin could pull his sword from the orc corpse, the other orc was coming around his other side, and Bilbo quickly stepped between Thorin and the orc. Bilbo angled his spear so the orc would impale himself on it before reaching either of them. Finally, Thorin pulled his blade free and lifted it up to block the orc who was flailing on the end of the spear and pushing him to the ground. 

“We have to get out of here. They’ll have noticed their sentries aren’t returning soon enough,” Bilbo breathed as he wiped orc blood from his brow. Their dragons came and swooped down over top of them, trilling uneasily at the orc corpses on the ground. 

“Yes, you answered my call a little late,” Thorin chuckled softly as he swiftly pulled himself onto Nangûna’s back. He watched Bilbo do the same with his Hobblegrunt. 

“Stay close to the treetops for a little while and then follow my lead when we need to gain altitude,” Bilbo called. Thorin nodded and waited for Bilbo to take off before ushering Nangûna upwards to follow the other dragon. They followed Bilbo for a while over the tops of the forests north of Erebor. Thorin continued to feel in awe as he watched Bilbo fly his dragon in front of him. Everything about it seemed like a dream to have him back again. 

Bilbo finally began to gain altitude and Thorin spurred Nangûna upwards after the Hobblegrunt. 

Thorin’s stomach still twisted unpleasantly thinking about how he could have easily lost Bilbo again during their scuffle with the orcs. It scared Thorin to death to know that Bilbo was alive and he could lose him all over again in a heartbeat, especially if they were to actually take on the dragon forces in the north led by Azog. 

Finally, they returned to Erebor, and they landed in the grand front hall to catch their breath. Their dragons also needed a moment to recover from the speedy flight back. As soon as they slid off their dragons, Bilbo strode over to Thorin quickly and embraced him, which Thorin promptly responded in kind. 

“I’m sorry,” Bilbo started. “I’m sorry, we went too close, that was my fault. Oh goodness, when that orc said he was going to… to hurt you…” Bilbo sputtered. 

“It’s not your fault,” Thorin sighed softly. “It’s not. I felt the same… boiling rage when that filth even suggested laying a hand on you.  _ This _ is why I want to leave. This is why I don’t want to try to fight these forces.” 

“I know,” Bilbo murmured, burying his face into Thorin’s chest. “I know, and I’m terrified, too. I thought I would be less so with you here, but it only makes it so much worse. But we have to, Thorin. We have to. I know now more than ever if the wizard believes these dragons could lead to terrible power being allowed to spread through Middle Earth we must do something.” 

“Why us?” Thorin sighed miserably, pressing the question to Bilbo once again. “Why is it up to us to determine the fate of Middle-Earth? I thought that’s what the wizards were for.”

“Well, apparently all they do is warn us before anything happens and don’t raise another hand to help. I wonder where the old wizard is now, after he’s spent so much time trying to convince you of retaking the mountain,” Bilbo said. 

Thorin couldn’t offer an answer and instead pulled Bilbo close again, still having a difficult time believing that he was once again holding his beloved husband. He still felt as if he’d wake up alone at any moment in his bed in Ered Luin. 

“I do hope the others return soon,” Bilbo finally pulled away from Thorin’s grasp. Thorin still maintained a hold on Bilbo’s hand. 

“Frodo should be back the soonest,” Thorin remarked. “Or Kíli. Probably to tell us the elves will not help,” Thorin explained bitterly. 

“We do not know. I would assume if nothing else the elves are self-preserving creatures. With the threat of these hostile dragons and orcs taking over the mountain, perhaps they’ll be feeling a little magnanimous?” Bilbo suggest. 

“We can only hope. There’s no possible way we’ll be able to take on the army with just a few of us. Dain’s people won’t be able to fight in the air, and it’ll take some time to get all of the Ered Luin fliers out here to Erebor.” 

“Well, no one else is returning this moment. Let’s return to our chambers,” Bilbo suggested as he turned back to his dragon, letting go of Thorin’s hand. Thorin could feel his heart warm as he heard Bilbo refer to his room in the Royal Chambers as ‘their chambers.’ 

Thorin hadn’t had the heart to tell Bilbo that if Mahal allowed and they were able to retake the mountain and live alongside the dragons, that they would most likely move to the chamber at the center of the Royal Wing, where the king usually resided. They wouldn’t be staying in his childhood bedroom. But there was no need to bring that up now. Thorin wasn’t even sure if any of them would live to see the mountain reclaimed or if they’d remain in the mountain after this was all over.

They returned to the Royal Wing, and the dragons stayed in the large halls outside the chambers as Thorin followed Bilbo back into his old room. 

Bilbo began to shed his layers; first, he left his spear propped up in the corner and placed his helmet beside it. He undid the cloak that was once Thorin’s as a child and discarded it on the back of the old decaying sofa in the room. 

“Would you like food? Or perhaps a bath first?” Bilbo offered. 

“Ah, my stomach isn’t quite up to eating at the moment, a bath sounds excellent,” Thorin replied. “Would you like help with the water?” Thorin asked remembering the heated water was no longer a luxury in the mountain as long as the great forges weren’t lit to keep the mountain and the water supply hot when needed. 

“If you could,” Bilbo smiled tiredly at Thorin. 

Within a half an hour they had the bath drawn and had the dragons aid in heating the water as they filled the tub. Bilbo readily discarded the rest of his clothes and stepped into the grand pool. Thorin hesitantly unlaced his own tunic and shed his clothes to join Bilbo. 

They’d never shared a bath back in Ered Luin. Back then, they only had a small bathing basin where only one dwarf could fit comfortably. Neither of them minded and enjoyed their modesty most of the time, but they had been too tired to care about that now.

It made Thorin’s heart ache to see how lean and malnourished Bilbo’s body looked. He had reminded himself that Bilbo had lasted twenty years in this abandoned kingdom, probably not living off of more than what he could scrape by. 

Bilbo barely met Thorin’s eyes, and he dunked his head underwater and began to wash. Thorin only sat in the warm bath and let the hot water soak away some of his aches before he began to bathe properly. 

“Are you okay?” Bilbo asked when he realized Thorin was not spending much time washing the day’s dirt and grime off of him. 

“It worries me how little you’ve been eating to survive,” Thorin replied quietly. “Especially for a hobbit.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ve survived, haven’t I?” Bilbo shrugged as he finally relaxed in the tub. 

“But I still hate to think… you went without your usual six or seven meals a day,” Thorin explained. 

“I assume Frodo still got those in Ered Luin after I left,” Bilbo changed the subject. 

“Of course,” Thorin nodded. “But Bilbo…” Thorin sighed. 

“What?” Bilbo softly asked when Thorin didn’t immediately continue. 

“If… If we ever do reclaim this mountain… if we’re ever able to live alongside the dragons… Smaug, especially—but if we do… it will be my life’s mission to ensure that you get your seven meals a day for the rest of your life.” 

Bilbo sat up and smiled faintly at Thorin before moving and sitting closer to him in the grand bath. 

“I’m… I look forward to it,” Bilbo muttered as he leaned his head on Thorin’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much. I can’t even begin to describe how much my heart aches at the potential of finally spending the rest of our days together. It aches with happiness and anticipation, but it also aches for all the time I have missed with you.” 

“I am here, now,  _ amrâlimê,” _ Thorin muttered as he gently lifted his hand out of the water and tilted Bilbo’s face closer to his. Bilbo closed the gap between them, placing a soft kiss on Thorin’s lips. 

“Life has been cruel, but it has also been peculiar,” Thorin remarked when they parted. “Without you… without your ring… there would have been no chance at reclaiming Erebor. Now…”

“You no longer think me mad for wishing to see the mountain reclaimed?” Bilbo asked quietly. 

“I do still think you mad,” Thorin admitted. “But I have no choice in the matter now. As I understand it, it would have been an issue for us eventually, if Azog does take control of the mountain. It doesn’t mean that I like the idea of risking my kin’s lives… risking this… for a chance to see the mountain reclaimed. There’s still a part of me that wants to take you back to Ered Luin… no, the Shire and rebuild a life there together while we still can. Evil could devour the world, but at least I would have a little more time with you and Frodo.” 

Bilbo smiled faintly at the sentiment, but quickly faded, imagining what that choosing that fate would mean for the world. 

“We must at least try,” Bilbo finally spoke. “I-If we fail and one… or both of us… falls in the process, we shall find each other in the next world,” Bilbo said softly. “I know we will.” 

Thorin’s heart clenched to hear such words. Bilbo continued.

“That thought has been one of the few getting me through my years here in Erebor,” Bilbo gently rested his head on Thorin’s shoulder once again. “That we will find each other in the next world,” Bilbo repeated.

“Y-You don’t even know that… We’re both… I only mean that I will go to the halls of my fathers… to the halls of Mahal.”

“As far as I’m concerned, they’re all the same. If they’re not, I’ll fight Mahal himself to get to you,” Bilbo assured Thorin. 

Thorin chuckled.

“You know, I think Frodo said something like that one time,” Thorin remarked. “Just after you… ah, after you disappeared and we all thought you were dead… I expressed the same concern to him… that you and I might not share the same afterlife. He assured me that he would fight Mahal so that I could see you. Do all hobbits express such violence towards Mahal?”

“Only when the visitation of loved ones is involved, apparently,” Bilbo chuckled. “Now, come on, enough of this talk. No one is going anywhere at the moment, and the bath is getting cold. Let’s get out and get dressed. Shall we place bets on who will return to the mountain first?”

Thorin gave Bilbo a small smile before the hobbit turned and got out of the large tub, reaching for a towel to dry himself with and tossed Thorin a towel of his own. 

Once they were properly dressed again, Thorin stoked a fire in the fireplace, and they sat before it as Bilbo had helped Thorin comb through his hair and pull it into a loose braid. 

“I’m a little out of practice,” Bilbo muttered as he finished. “I’ve tried to keep up my braiding skills and my marriage braid, but I’ve fallen out of practice with it most days,” Bilbo muttered.

“You’ve done a fine job,” Thorin remarked, pulling the damp braid over his shoulder. He turned and pulled Bilbo into a quick kiss. 

“I have missed that very much,” Bilbo explained as they parted. Thorin smiled as he carded through Bilbo’s damp curls. 

“Now how about that marriage braid of yours?” Thorin asked.

“Oh, let me find the bead, just a moment.” Bilbo got up and retrieved the bead from the nightstand. He returned and deposited the bead into Thorin’s hand before positioning himself for Thorin to braid his hair. 

“Your hair is easier to braid now… it’s longer,” Thorin remarked as he quickly braided Bilbo's hair.

“Well, it’s gotten longer than this, and I try to cut it when I can. It’s too much. Occasionally I’ll tie it back, but I can only stand it for so long before I decide to cut it off.” 

“I think it looks handsome,” Thorin commented as he finished. 

“Well, of course you do,” Bilbo chuckled to himself. “You certainly haven’t fallen out of practice. I mean, of course you haven’t, you do your braids everyday… silly of me to…” Bilbo muttered.

“I also have practice from braiding Frodo’s short curls every so often. He’s no longer a young lad, but occasionally I can coerce him into letting me braid it for him,” Thorin smiled softly. Bilbo chuckled at the thought, and Thorin pulled him in for a lingering kiss. 

When they parted, Bilbo sighed as he fell against Thorin’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. Thorin leaned into Bilbo and let his own eyes fall shut for a moment as the warmth of the fire washed over them. His mind kept echoing with Bilbo’s thoughts about either one of them not surviving the upcoming battle. He knew that it was a matter of time before one of them truly did perish. Thorin was glad they were able to reconcile a bit, at least. He didn’t want to spend their last days together to be filled with arguing after so much time apart. 

His throat began to constrict, and hot tears prickled at his eyes as the thought of these as their last days now invaded his mind. Life was incredibly cruel. 

“Thorin?” Bilbo called in barely more than a whisper. Thorin hummed in response, trying to swallow his emotion so Bilbo couldn’t see how close he was to breaking down. 

“Would you like some dinner now, dear?” Bilbo asked. 

Thorin weakly nodded as Bilbo stood and helped Thorin up and led him towards the kitchens in the Royal Wing. Minty and Nangûna were still lounging about in the great hall of the Royal Wing, and Bilbo smiled at them as they continued onward to the kitchens. Minty perked up and chirped before attempting to follow them. She usually knew that Bilbo needed her help in the kitchen and occasionally she’d get to share any of Bilbo’s scraps. Thorin jumped as the dragon charged up behind them and Bilbo laughed. 

“She knows it’s meal time,” Bilbo explained. “I have to share with Thorin though, Minty. You could help get the fire started, yes, but perhaps you should take Thorin’s dragon and your family and go scrounge around a bit for your own meal.” 

Minty purred in response, and Thorin got out of the way for the dragon to go light the massive hearth in the kitchen. 

“Thank you,” Bilbo muttered as he put a pot up to boil over the fire. “Now, go find something for yourselves to eat tonight, all right?” Bilbo raised his eyebrows at the dragon. She bowed her head in understanding and left the kitchens. 

“We don’t have anything fresh to eat tonight, but I still have a bit of food from what Bard brought me,” Bilbo muttered as he looked through his meager supplies. Thorin offered his help, but Bilbo was accustomed to cooking on his own, so Thorin hovered awkwardly nearby as he watched Bilbo work with what he had. 

Within the hour they had a small meal scraped together, yet seasoned well from Bilbo’s Lake-Town supplies. It didn’t take them long to finish their meal, and they remained quiet as they ate. Bilbo cleared away their plates when they were done and left them in the sink to be taken care of the next day. 

“I think it’s time for bed,” Bilbo decided as he headed for the door. 

“I must agree with you,” Thorin softly said as he followed Bilbo back to their chambers. They were already prepared for bed, and they easily fell into bed beside each other. Thorin couldn’t help but lay on his side and gaze at Bilbo even though he could barely make out his face with the dying embers of the fire. 

“I can feel you watching me. Or at least trying to, considering how dark it is,” Bilbo murmured.

“You forget, we dwarves have decent sight in the dark. We live in mountains after all,” Thorin replied sleepily. Bilbo smiled with a soft chuckle and Thorin could hear Bilbo shift and felt Bilbo’s hand come up and rest on his face. Thorin hummed happily before he eventually reached up to take hold of Bilbo’s hand. He guided it to rest between them and Bilbo laced their fingers together. 

They were unlike the hands Thorin was so used to holding when they had first met. Bilbo had always led a comfortable life, not even using his hands in the garden as much as he had his neighbor Hamfast as a gardener. As a result, his hands had been soft, warm. Now they were rough with the harsh conditions of the North and living inside the mountain for so long. Once again Thorin’s heart ached at how malnourished Bilbo was thanks to his time in Erebor. 

“I still have a hard time believing you’re here… that this is happening…” Bilbo muttered. 

“How long do you think it’ll take for either of us to believe we have one another again?” Thorin chuckled. 

“I don’t know. Quite a while, I’d think. Maybe another twenty years,” Bilbo replied. 

“I’m glad you’ll still have me,” Thorin muttered. 

“You’re glad? I’m glad _ you’ll _ still have me. Dragons and all,” Bilbo smiled. Thorin’s smile faltered a bit as he was reminded of the threat that lay ahead of them. 

Thorin could feel some of the unspoken things hanging between them, and he wondered if they would ever be able to speak them to one another, even if they had another twenty… thirty… forty years together. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of Bilbo’s hand in his and the soft breathing of his partner and eventually he drifted off.

**x**

As Thorin woke the next morning, he heard Bilbo’s hushed voice on the other side of the room.

“Minty, shush. Thorin’s still sleeping. I know you feel uneasy, I’m sorry, girl. Why don’t you take Myrtle and Daisy and watch for our family returning with potential allies, hm? Alert us if you see them? Take Thorin’s dragon… oh, I’ve forgotten her name, ridiculous Khuzdul names, you know. But she’s family now too, okay?” Bilbo told the dragon quietly. “Come back in a little while. I’ll need you then.”

Thorin closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. He didn’t want to think about the dragons, about battle strategy… about war. He thought he’d have a peaceful life to the end of his days in Ered Luin. He hoped there would be no need for battle in his lifetime. But here they were on the precipice of violence brought by warfare and combat. He just wanted to think about Bilbo, about a future with him… a peaceful one, with Frodo. He imagined how nice it would be to return to the Shire… to rebuild Bilbo’s home to make it their own and to live out the rest of their days in wedded bliss that they had missed out on for twenty years. 

The door opened again, and Thorin could hear Bilbo quietly enter the room along with a gentle scrape and some rustling. 

“Blast it, where did I put it…” Bilbo muttered to himself. 

“What are you looking for?” Thorin instinctively asked as he opened his eyes and turned to where Bilbo was looking. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were awake. I hope Minty didn’t wake you. She’s been particularly fussy. I don’t think she likes sharing my attention with my new guests,” Bilbo chuckled. 

“Nangûna,” Thorin muttered as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Nangûna is the name of my dragon. Derived from our word for ‘iris.’ She was found in the Shire, so I thought a floral name was appropriate.” 

Bilbo smiled broadly at the explanation behind Thorin’s dragon’s name but soon dropped the expression as he continued on his quest. 

“I’m looking for… I don’t know if you would even know what I’m looking for. It’s a handsome leather overcoat that I sometimes wear, I haven’t seen it in ages, but I do need to find it…” 

“Hmm, I might know what you’re talking about. Did you get it from Frerin’s room?”

“I… erm, I did, yes,” Bilbo admitted as he slowed down his search and tentatively turned to Thorin. “I know that might have been disrespectful to go through his things since he’s gone. I’m sorry.” 

Thorin closed his eyes for a moment and briefly pictured his younger brother in the leather overcoat he often wore when they’d out to go hunting with Dwalin and occasionally their mother. 

“I’m sure he would have been fine with you borrowing it,” Thorin hesitantly smiled at Bilbo. “Why do you need it specifically?”

“It’s… erm… well, generally more fireproof than some of the furs, cotton, silks, and linens,” Bilbo explained turning back to the wardrobe. 

“...And why do you need something fireproof, Bilbo?” Thorin asked hesitantly. “What are you planning?”

“Don’t fret. It’s more of a precaution than anything…” Bilbo nervously chuckled. 

“Bilbo,” Thorin said, sternly. 

“I must talk to Smaug again before the others return,” Bilbo told Thorin. “Warn him that we will be hosting dwarves, among other allies here at the mountain in preparation for facing Azog and his armies. He won’t be happy, but he’ll have to agree since it is imperative to the survival of his nest.”

Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose, and Bilbo hesitantly stepped forward towards the bed where Thorin was still sitting.

“Right, yes, of course,” Thorin nodded. 

“I know it’s probably a little silly of me to ask, but would you like to go with me? You could give your word that should we be successful in defending the mountain that your people will not kill the dragons and they intend to work with the dragons. I believe with the example of your own dragon we can express that you and the dwarves of the Blue Mountains have grown to care for the dragons as well, and that you would not see them harmed. That is Smaug’s priority,” Bilbo explained. 

“One of his priorities. His top priority is the large amount of gold that lies within those halls,” Thorin explained sourly. “Gold that will need to be used by the dwarves to rebuild the kingdom. You cannot convince a dragon to share his hoard.” 

“I know it will not be easy. But I believe I can… persuade the dragon… use the power of my ring to influence Smaug to take your word for it. So far all I’ve seen is  _ Smaug’s _ desire for the gold. The other dragons do not seem to hoard it as Smaug does. I believe I can convince him for the other dragons’ sake,” Bilbo explained. “So… will you come down and help me?”

“I…” Thorin started and grasped for words. “I do not wish to send you down there to face the dragon alone,” Thorin started. “I know you have dealt with him many times in the past, and I know that you have succeeded in using your ring, but this is a lot to ask of that dragon and if all goes wrong… I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but at your side.”

“I am sensing some hesitation,” Bilbo frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I cannot go down there with you to the hoards of treasure. I haven’t even seen the gold, and I’m…” Thorin trailed off again as if his body was restraining him from speaking. Bilbo could see the conflict in Thorin’s face. “I’m sick.” 

“What?” Bilbo asked in a hushed tone. “You seem fine, what are you talking about?”

“It’s not a physical disease,” Thorin shook his head. “I’m… my mind… ah, my people… my  _ family _ suffers from a great Dragon-sickness. A disease where greed addles our brains and drives us mad. Now especially, Smaug has dwelled over this treasure for a century, and the spell on the gold is a powerful one. I haven’t gone down to the treasure halls, and yet my mind still swims with images of the gold and most particularly the heart of the mountain, the Arkenstone,” Thorin explained. 

“The Arkenstone?” Bilbo asked. 

“It’s a bright jewel, large and… and remarkable. It is said whoever wields the Arkenstone commands the seven Dwarf families. It was Erebor’s pride when the dragon came… words could never truly describe its beauty,” Thorin recalled, and Bilbo could sense the lust for the jewel in Thorin’s voice. He had come across many gems during his trips down to the treasure hoard, but he wasn’t sure if any of them were the magnificent stone Thorin spoke of. “I am terrified that the sickness will plague my mind should I go down to the treasure halls myself,” Thorin continued. “I don’t want to imagine what it will do to me, what it will do to our relationship and our plan to retake the mountain. I saw my grandfather suffer from the illness before Smaug came and it plagued him greatly. Now that a dragon has actually brooded over this treasure… I am not sure how it will affect me.” Thorin explained softly. 

“Oh, dear,” Bilbo nodded. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can make Smaug do to… un-dragon-ify the treasure… o-or make it less likely to affect you?”

“As I said, this illness affected my grandfather even before the dragon came. It’s a mental affliction, not a physical one. Not one that can be healed by physical treatments of any kind…” 

“There’s nothing that can be done?” Bilbo questioned.

“My grandfather was one of the strongest dwarves I have ever known. Sure and steady about who he was and how he ruled his kingdom. If the sickness can afflict his mind the way it did… I have no chance.” 

“Don’t be like that, Thorin. You can’t be sure it will affect you the same…” Bilbo muttered as he stepped forward and took Thorin’s hand.

“I can be. As I said, it’s hereditary, and many great dwarves have succumbed to the dragon-sickness,” Thorin explained, gently squeezing Bilbo’s hand. 

“Well,” Bilbo sighed. “How about we wait to cross that path when we do. First, we must ensure the safety of the mountain. Then we can go about ensuring your… mental sanity. I’m sorry, Thorin. I wish I could do more to help you at the moment.”

“It isn’t your fault. I just hope that I’ll be able to manage it,” Thorin muttered. 

“We’ll try our hardest,” Bilbo promised him. “I’ll be at your side no matter what.” Bilbo raised Thorin’s hand to his mouth to press a soft kiss to his knuckles. Thorin gently reached up and pulled Bilbo into a soft kiss. 

“I’m so scared,” Thorin admitted in a hoarse voice. “About everything.” 

“I know,” Bilbo sighed. “I am, too.” He leaned in a pressed a soft kiss to Thorin’s forehead. Thorin pulled him in and embraced him tightly, tucking his nose against Bilbo’s shoulder. 

“Come now. I must find that leather overcoat,” Bilbo muttered. Thorin released Bilbo and slid out of bed, helping Bilbo shift through articles of clothing in the chamber’s wardrobe and scouring the rest of the room to find it. Eventually, they found it hidden under the bed, and Bilbo quickly pulled it on. Thorin was impressed at how well the smaller overcoat fit Bilbo, and he was reminded of the times he had seen Frerin wear it as a boy. It looked as if Bilbo had made some adjustments to the overall fit of the coat so that it would fit a grown hobbit better than an adolescent dwarf, but it still looked quite good despite its age. 

Once he was ready, and Minty had returned to the Royal Wing he bid Thorin goodbye with a quick kiss and mounted his dragon. Bilbo spurred her onward, and Thorin watched them disappear, heading down into the treasure halls. He tried to swallow his anxiety and turned back to their rooms. Making his way towards the kitchen, he found the last pieces of the bread that had gone a little stale and sliced a few pieces of cheese for his own meager breakfast. He couldn’t imagine Bilbo living like this for twenty years. 

His mind swirled with thoughts about his family, his concern about Bilbo, and the slim possibility of a future in the mountain. 

Before all of this, Thorin had deep down, never wanted to reclaim the lost homeland. He had lost his father to the foolish idea of reclaiming the mountain. Besides being dangerous and reckless to consider, he knew he was too much of a coward to assume Kingship of the kingdom. The responsibility of his exiled people and weighed heavily on him for many years, and that would be considered nothing compared to being King of this once great kingdom. While he was seen as a leader in Ered Luin, it wasn’t quite the same as king of the Lonely Mountain. 

He would have to take on the great responsibility of being king during the restoration of the kingdom and determine how his people and the dragons could share the mountain, and he didn’t believe he could shoulder that responsibility. However, the thought of Bilbo ruling beside him was a new and exciting prospect. He commanded the respect of the dragons, and he knew that the power would make the others respect Bilbo as well as Thorin. Anxiety continued to boil in the pit of his stomach just thinking about it. 

Thorin decided to stay his wandering thoughts by going to explore what had become of the Royal Chambers. It was odd to see his family’s old rooms again after so many years. It looked as if there had been some attempt to clean them up. He couldn’t imagine Bilbo needing any of the other chambers, but perhaps he had been curious. Thorin couldn’t blame him. He probably should have told Bilbo about Erebor before it had been too late. For Bilbo to hear that his husband was once heir to this kingdom from the tyrant dragon that had taken the mountain must have been quite a shock. 

Once Thorin could no longer face the dark lonely rooms that once belonged to his family he returned to his own chamber. He took a chance to look through the things that Bilbo had gathered and stored in the antechamber of Thorin’s old room. 

He found a few dulled weapons including Bilbo’s spear that seemed worn more than the other weapons. The helmet and cloak that Thorin had seen Bilbo wearing when they reunited were there as well. Thorin moved through to stacks of old books and parchment, and Thorin recognized them as old paperwork concerning Erebor. Most of it dealt with trade with Dale, Esgaroth, and Mirkwood, and Thorin assumed Bilbo had gathered these documents because they were in Westron. He remembered Bilbo had never completed his Khuzdul lessons. Thorin smiled as he shifted through the papers and finally came across some leather bound journals that Thorin did not recognize. 

Reaching forward, he grasped one of the journals and opened it up and found Bilbo’s careful handwriting and detailed diagrams that looked like maps. Before he could study the journal very long, the door to the chamber opened, and Bilbo entered the room. Thorin shut the journal and looked up. 

“How… was it?” Thorin asked as he set the journal down and stood up.

“Well, Smaug certainly wasn’t happy,” Bilbo shrugged. “I knew he wouldn’t be. Were you looking through those?”

“What? Oh,” Thorin looked down at the journals. “Erm, just barely. Tell me about Smaug.”

Bilbo gave a small smile to Thorin. 

“He’s agreed so far, he understands the situation is dire,” Bilbo explained. “He’s been aware for a long time how bad the situation is, and we’ve been trying to figure out how we’ll fight them. I’m finally able to offer a solution, and he can’t really afford to decline the plan. I only had to tell him to… be on his best behavior…” Bilbo explained. 

Thorin shook his head with a sigh. 

“I still can’t believe that’s it,” Thorin said. “That Smaug’s submits that easily to the ring. I don’t trust it one bit.”

“Well, it’s worked this long, and I’ve been able to control the dragon. You’ll have to trust me, and I trust the ring. I trust Smaug. You must realize that you’re on the same side. He doesn’t want this mountain falling into the hands of the Orcs anymore than you do. He knows what they’ll do to the dragons in the mountain, and he means to protect them.”

“And what happens the moment the threat passes if Mahal somehow allows us to succeed in defeating this army? What happens when we have to convince Smaug to allow other dwarves into the mountain?”

“I know you don’t believe that we can make it happen, but we’ll approach it when we get to it. Thorin, we cannot waste time arguing around what-ifs and the thousands of possibilities of the next couple weeks. Even the next couple days, we have no idea what’s going to happen. We need to focus all of our energy on just surviving and ridding the orcs and their dragon forces once and for all.” 

“That’s dangerous thinking,” Thorin argued. “I still must doubt that the ring—a simple trinket—will stay Smaug’s hatred for our people. Or our people’s hatred for the dragon.”

“Enough of this talk. We’ll have plenty of time for it once… if we survive the coming battle. Now please, can we take our dragons and go outside and fly? Maybe some fresh air and a ride will clear our heads. We can watch for our returning parties. You said it yourself, Kíli should be back next. That will fill in one piece of the upcoming puzzle.”

Thorin reluctantly agreed. Although he had spent the past three days riding almost straight for Erebor with very few breaks, he was beginning to feel a little restless inside the mountain. Going for a ride with Bilbo would be nice.

**x**

They flew until the sun set. Bilbo was right, Thorin’s heart felt much lighter as he watched Bilbo glide side to side in front of him. He would call back teasingly to Thorin about keeping up, and Thorin eventually couldn’t take it anymore and decided to show off with his own dragon. Nangûna was at least five times the size of Bilbo’s dragon and could move much more swiftly with her two sets of wings. 

They both burst into laughter as Thorin spurred Nangûna onward and they flew circles around Minty and Bilbo. 

As the sun sank and it got dark they returned to the mountain. They took another bath together and had a dinner of regurgitated fish that Minty had provided. 

“It’s not so bad,” Bilbo smiled at Thorin’s disgusted look as he cleaned and prepared the fish. “I usually boil it for a little bit before thoroughly cooking it on the fire to get all the dragon juices off of it.” 

“Durin’s beard, Bilbo,” Thorin rubbed his eyes and temples, before helping Bilbo prepare another portion of their meal. Bilbo shot Thorin another grin, and Thorin bashfully returned it. For a brief moment, it felt domestic and innocent, the two of them cooking dinner and enjoying a simple evening together. Thorin reminded himself to enjoy it because the feeling gnawing away at his heart told him it wouldn’t last long. 

Once they’d finished and cleaned up, they returned to their chambers ready for some much needed rest.

“If the others begin to return in the next day or two, it will be a very long exhausting week,” Bilbo sighed as he crawled into bed. “We must make preparations. But for now, we sleep and put our worries to the side for tonight. They can wait until morning.” 

Thorin gently crawled into bed beside Bilbo. They had blown out the candles in the chamber leaving only the glowing embers of the fire. Thorin’s heart still ached, and his mind raced at everything that was to come. As much as he wished to heed Bilbo’s advice, the thoughts and anxieties continued to plague him. 

“Thorin,” Bilbo’s quiet voice called out to him in the darkness.

“Yes?” Thorin whispered. 

“Your thoughts are too loud… or rather I suppose I’ve gotten used to sleeping alone again. Your fidgeting is making me anxious. I told you we must rest and leave our worries for the morning,” Bilbo quietly explained.

“It’s difficult,” Thorin replied. 

“I know,” Bilbo answered just as quietly. 

Bilbo shifted closer, and he moved to curl himself around Thorin. Thorin turned towards Bilbo and embraced him in the darkness. It took a little while before Bilbo was comfortable, but finally the hobbit had burrowed his face into the crook of Thorin’s neck, their legs intertwining with one another’s. Thorin seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. This was a balm on his nerves. After spending the past few days in heated argumentative discussions with Bilbo, Thorin was glad to fall asleep with his beloved in his arms again. 

His anxious thoughts began to slip away as Thorin gently carded through Bilbo’s hair repeatedly, his nose buried in the hobbit’s curls, which smelled faintly of the soap that Bilbo had gotten from Lake-Town. Before he could continue to think about how happy he was to fall asleep with Bilbo in his arms once again, he faded into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again shout out to [Ally](http://chibistarlyte.tumblr.com/) ([@here on ao3!](http://archiveofourown.org/users/chibistarlyte)) for betaing!!
> 
> This chapter started out as a mega chapter and eventually needed to be split (but that's what I get for getting lost in the fluff after having these two apart for so long ;D) so fingers crossed that I'm able to get the second part done quickly. Thanks everyone!!!


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